17Whatever
by MissCrayons
Summary: A spell gone awry sends Faith to Galway, not long before Angel was sired. Whilst Faith & Liam are going all Bonnie and Clyde on eighteenth century Ireland, Angel Investigations are working hard to try and bring the much-needed Slayer back! Unfortunately everything is a lot more complicated than they can even imagine. Faith/Liam Faith/Angel
1. The Beginning

**17"Whatever"**

**by MissCrayons**

For Bas and Katie

In loving memory of Amanda

**Chapter 1: The Beginning**

_This story begins directly within the Angel episode Orphius during Season Four._

* * *

Faith was leaning against a wall. Her mind still replaying everything that had happened today, not least fact that she was aching everywhere. Now that it was done, she felt it was the first time she could acknowledge the full extent of the beating she had taken. Unconsciously her hand went to the newly bandaged wound, tracing along the dressing gingerly, as if to make sure it did still hurt and it wasn't all in her imagination. Faith liked pain, she wouldn't deny it, there was nothing quite so grounding. You never felt as real as you did when you where in agony. Willow had offered to heal it magically, but Faith had declined, her inner-slayer healed her quickly enough and she felt it was cheating somehow. Even now a lot of the initial sting had gone, it was _already_ healing.

Angel watched Faith quietly and from a safe distance, his head was all over the place, you'd think after a certain amount of time and practice guilt wouldn't still hit him like a sledge hammer. If ever there was an expert on feeling guilty, it was him, then again if ever there was somebody who had endless reasons and causes for feeling guilty it was him. Then again, he knew what happened when he stopped feeling guilty, and that very fact alone made it somewhat easier to bear. Still, having everything dredged up like that, fresh in his mind? All the vampire wanted to do at this moment in time was sit in a dark room with his thoughts.

Standing there, so still, bathed in the moonlight with her thoughts a million miles away, lost in the stars and the past, he couldn't help but think she looked young. Innocent. How deceptive moonlight was. He knew her, for what she was as well as what she could be, there was no innocence left in Faith. It made him feel closer to her. When he was with Faith, he knew she understood the guilt, the constant overwhelming shame of your past.

So many people in his life lived in black and white, it was always comforting to have another that recognised how many shades of grey there were between those colours.

"Hey," she said softly, still feeling slightly anxious around the vampire, Angel hadn't realised that he'd been caught staring.

"How're you feeling?" Angel walked closer to Faith, since there was no point in staying in the shadows if she knew he was there. Really he hadn't wanted this awkward scene, but a larger part of him had known it was inevitable. If she noticed the horror in his eyes when she dropped her fingers from her bandage, she didn't call him on it.

"Like I did 'shrooms and then got eaten by a bear" Faith quipped, her tone was light but there was little of the usual defiance in her eyes, she was trying to lighten the tense atmosphere. Which meant she felt it too. Angel shifted his weight to accommodate the increase on his shoulders.

"That about sums it up." Angel agreed. Trying to join in with Faith's attempt at light humour, "and now you're going to Sunnydale?" there was a hesitance in his tone that he couldn't shake, probably because he didn't want to lose the bit of comfort he always found in the slayer's presence. Maybe it was just jealousy, because she was going where he knew he couldn't any more. It helped that she didn't look anywhere near enthusiastic to go either. Then again, what was her alternative? Back to high security in a jumpsuit.

"I think I'd prefer the bear, _but _the way Willow talks it up..." Faith paused for a second and looked into Angels eyes "it's where I'm needed." Angel was the first to look away, then he moved a few steps forward and leaned on the rail next to Faith. For a moment it looked as if he were about to say something but he didn't. Neither did for a few minutes. She was doing it, making a change, _trying_, he liked to think he'd helped in that. Faith was a strong girl and he hoped that she'd have found her way without him eventually.

"Never stop fighting" Angel muttered, as if more to himself than to Faith.

"Hey! I was going to, until somebody got all pep-talky on me." Faith grinned and Angel couldn't help but smile. It was short lived, Faith rolled her eyes, heaven forbid anybody caught him not brooding.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't get to see you. Our little brain trip not with-standing."

"Another time." Both knew there probably wouldn't be another time, at least not unless something went horribly wrong. They only tended to see each other when one of them fell of the wagon, and that was something neither would hope for. Plus Faith was going to the Hellmouth, to face another apocalypse, there was every chance she'd die. Angel stood there for a moment, fully absorbing the fact that this may well be the last time he saw her.

"I have a lot to thank you for - " Angel stopped when he saw Faith shaking her head lightly,

"And vice-versa, but I even start it's only going to lead to hugging and - " Faith stopped, she glanced up at Angel and saw that he knew exactly what she meant, the two kept eye contact for a few minutes until Faith shrugged it off and smiled half-heartedly.

"Right" Angel sighed, "We can't have that".

"No." Faith turned and headed inside, Angel's eyes following her for a few moments, he could let her walk away right now so easily, he found he was arguing internally with himself. A crossroads. '_You might never see her again, she saved your life, their lives_', his subconscious won and he called out,

"Faith?"

Faith turned around, looking at Angel questioningly, Angel took full opportunity of the hesitation, walked up to her and wrapped his thick arms around her albeit somewhat awkwardly.

"Ugh, you're going soft." Though she was smiling through the muffled words, her arms wrapped around the vampire affectionately. It felt strange, she'd had the biggest crush on Angel throughout her time in Sunnydale, and it had always been there really, even beyond her want to get under Buffy's skin. Angel was an attractive guy, but being close to him like this felt off. Familiar, but off. She'd instinctively expected to feel heat, but of course there was none, just a firm presence against her. A repulsion, she wondered if that was her inner slayer-defence mechanism kicking in. The feeling of wrong. Emptiness.

Sort of like hugging rock.

When she glanced up, proud of herself for making the observation in her head and not out loud, she was surprised to see Angel looking down at her.

"Do you feel better now? Can we disengage?" Faith was grinning and Angel rolled his eyes and pulled away, "oh don't play coy, I can see you laughing." The slayer followed Angel inside, ready to face her fate and head once more to the Hellmouth. It was a thing she was dreading for multiple reasons, not least because she would have to face Buffy. It wasn't that she didn't _like_ the other slayer, it was just that she'd failed so many times. Buffy had witnessed Faith's worst screw ups. Every single thing she was ashamed of herself for, she saw reflected back at her through Buffy's eyes. It was a hard cross to bear. But if this whole experience had taught her anything it was that the hardest things were better faced than avoided.

Buffy needed help and Faith couldn't ignore that. They shared something, something that was bigger than shame and regret. They were needed, special. Chosen.

"Faith, Willow is waiting" Wesley instructed, Angel turned back around and Faith nodded. There was a strange look in her former watcher's eyes, one that wasn't related to his usual '_I-failed-you_' look. One day people would look at her without pity. Without guilt. Without fear. That day would be fantastic. The day people stopped assuming she was broken and started realising that she was just her, doing the very best she could and trying to be counted. The slayer nodded and headed back out into the main foyer of the hotel to meet up with the others, leaving Wesley frowning at Angel.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice filled with trepidation.

"Hugging. I've heard it's customary between people."

In truth Angel didn't hug, he wasn't the type, he liked to keep his distance. Hugging was dangerous for him, the smell, the warmth, the comfort. For this very reason, Faith against him had felt strange. It felt familiar, having a warm, strong body against him. A girl who was the same height as Buffy, the same athletic frame, a slayer. It was just another thing to remind him, constant ghosts of his past and everything he didn't have.

Cordelia hugged him a lot, but she felt different. Soft. Yielding. He had to be careful with her.

He missed Buffy in those moments more than he had in a very long time, or at least he missed something, the way she'd made him feel, emotions that he'd never had before her. Not able to put his fingers on his feelings exactly he did what he did best, pushed them down and pretended that he wasn't having them.

He'd lost Buffy. He'd lost Cordelia. And now it felt for all the world like he was losing Faith too. Which was ridiculous because he'd never had her in the first place.

"It's going to take me at least a night to fix it," the faint grumble of thunder in the distance punctuated the sentence "and that's if this is one of those magical storms where it doesn't rain. You're not going before tomorrow." Angel walked in towards the last half of Gunn's sentence and he frowned,

"What's wrong with the car?"

"It won't start" Faith chipped in helpfully, having come in a few minutes before.

"Maybe I just need to try it again.." Willow offered optimistically, "maybe there's a spell..."

"Whoah, no thank you, I'm not driving all the way from LA to SunnyHell in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. No matter how much danger there is. Sorry Red."

"We can't waste another night, there's-"

"All sorts of bad things going down, I know, but unless you want me to go steal us a ride-" Angel scowled, Wesley almost protested, Faith grinned, it was the reaction she'd wanted. Sometimes people were so predictable "I'd say let's crash here for tonight and see how quickly we can get it fixed tomorrow. Sunnydale isn't going anywhere and to be honest, I'm beat."

"What do you think this is, a hotel or something?" Angel quipped, his expression cloaked so that the relief of a short reprieve of saying goodbye didn't show "of course you're welcome to stay."

"Do we get those little mints, on the pillows?" Faith goaded,

"No. And no stealing the shampoo's either."

"There are shampoo's?" Faith's eyes lit up,

"Only ours...".

"Oh so it's like an Easter Egg hunt to find goodies? I'm in!" Faith grinned and Wesley looked like he was about to comment when Faith put her hand up "relax. I'm all reformed, promise. Now I'm going to find out if this place has a bar. Or a pool."

Faith disappeared off into the hotel, and everybody else watched after her for a long minute.

"She packed a costume?" The others fixed her with amused looks, and after a beat Gunn got it. "Oh. Maybe I should..." Gunn started, but quickly changed his track after seeing the very poignant look from Fred "go absolutely nowhere near the pool. Got it. Too soon?" He added with a bitter smirk. Angel watched the former couple curiously, he didn't pretend to understand the intricacies of human relationships.

Fred looked suitably uncomfortable before excusing herself and disappearing into the office.

The conversation died down and without the slayer in play it seemed decided that they would spend the night here before heading back. Gunn would fix the car in the morning, he'd already headed out to get some parts. Willow had waited until everybody had gone before finding Angel.

"What if she changes her mind and disappears" the witch asked gently. It was something she was struggling with, trusting Faith. It was partly why she'd wanted to get her back as quickly as possible. If Faith was going to change her mind, it meant scary things for Sunnydale. Loath as she was to admit it, they needed more help, they needed more muscle. It was just unfortunate that the other slayer was unpredictable and changeable. A part of her wished that Faith would hurry up and die already so that another slayer could be called. Which made her feel even worse about herself.

"I don't think she will." Even Angel didn't seem one hundred percent convinced, "I'll keep an eye on her. You go and get some sleep."


	2. Company

**Chapter 2: Company**

* * *

It took him a while to find her, mostly because he wasn't really looking. More wandering around the vast hotel hoping to stumble across her and trying to persuade himself that it didn't matter because she would be here somewhere. Angel wanted to believe that Faith wouldn't run, and looking too enthusiastically would mean that he was acknowledging doubt. Instead he idled about, meandering around, trying to shift the heavy melancholy feeling that had ensnared him. How had something so simple as a hug made him feel this lost, this lonely? He had hugged Cordelia many times. Kissed even. But then he supposed it was different, Cordelia was, or at least had been, here, now, new and familiar all at the same time. She didn't remind him of his past, she reminded him of his purpose. She kept him focused, grounded.

Human.

Well, for the most part.

Buffy had awoken the human feelings within him that he'd never thought could exist, even as Angelus he'd felt the echoes of humanity, the connection which he couldn't shake. It was why he'd been so determined to destroy her once he'd lost his soul. Because even with it gone he'd loved her. Craved her. She'd made him glad to be who he was, not repentant. It meant that perhaps he'd done something right in life if she loved him.

Faith made him feel something completely different and he couldn't at all figure out what those feelings were. Whether they were good or bad, he had no idea. Even Angelus had been unsure, but delving too deeply into the repressed demon's memories was never a good idea. And he wasn't quite that desperate to be back in that mindset so soon either. He'd certainly wanted her to die though, the hatred he'd felt towards Faith was beyond Angelus' usual desire to see somebody hurt. It felt personal.

The hotel was immense, he checked all the communal rooms though hesitated on the outside of the pool room, unable to quite allow himself to go in. Faith was off limits, he'd known that from the second she'd arrived in Sunnydale. Captivating yes, but not worth the hassle. Plus everything with Buffy had been too raw. Now she just reminded him of himself, he saw so much of what he felt in her eyes. Faith was reckless and impulsive, she'd consume anybody who loved her, change them, envelope them. He couldn't afford that kind of temptation in his life. It was hard enough trying to keep himself straight, without the added responsibility of her behaviour too.

He would teach. He would guide. He would help. But he would do it all from a safe distance. One slayer was enough for a lifetime.

He was almost at the top of the building when he caught Faith's scent on the stairs, of course she'd come to the top. Where else had he expected her? Wandering up the lesser used corridors of the top floor, they tended to avoid heading too far up as the space between them all seemed too much anyway. Closer together they were less likely to be eaten by whatever monsters lurked in the dark this week. Angel wasn't really too worried about being eaten, but he was driven by the need to protect those he loved.

Knocking gently on the only door in the musty dark corridor that had a crack of light coming from behind, he waited patiently. He didn't need an invitation, but he seemed the polite thing to do.

"C'min" a voice shouted from behind the door and he didn't hesitate before heading inside. The room was in dire need of a clean, the bed look threadbare and moth-eaten, the wallpaper had seen better days and the chair in the corner looked like it would collapse if a butterfly landed on it. However the balcony doors were open wide, the heavy rain thundering down onto the floor and spilling onto the carpet. Angel cringed inwardly, they really should try to take better care of this place. Maybe next year, once all of this apocalypse mess was cleaned up and they'd found the Big Bad who had been pulling the Beast's strings they could focus more on housekeeping. The view over the city was spectacular, why had he not ventured this high before? The room was empty, Angel noted that Faith's clothes were dumped in a pile outside the bathroom door and he remained standing in the room somewhat awkwardly. Steam spilled out from the crack where the door was a little open, the smell of soap filled the room.

"If you've actually found soap up here I don't even want to think about how old it might be."

"Younger than you."

"Touché. Also, if you could not destroy the shower I'd really appreciate it."

"Wes told you about that, huh?" The slayer at least had the decency to sound sheepish.

Faith certainly didn't rush out of the bathroom and Angel found himself staring out at the soggy city lost in his thoughts. When she did emerge she had a towel wrapped around her that was at first glance a little too small. It covered the bits that needed to be covered, for modesty's sake, but definitely no more. Angel had forgotten how unabashed Faith was about such things. He wasn't sure whether to avert his gaze for politeness, or just ignore that fact that she was almost naked and dripping wet. Her hair curled against her skin, her face bare of make-up for once. Angel thought she looked younger, too young to have faced so much of what she already had.

"Willow was worried you'd bolt."

Faith's face fell a little and Angel almost felt bad for even telling her, he was expecting her to convey her disappointment, to talk to him perhaps about why everybody kept thinking the worst of her. But she didn't, apparently their sharing phase had ended.

"Well, here I am. What are you going to do? Sit vigil at my door. I could always use the window."

"In that case maybe I should stay right here?" Faith didn't handle situations and emotions like other people did, so he let her deflect with sarcasm,

"Well you never know, I could sneak away when I'm getting dressed. Whilst you're being all gentlemanly and repressed and averting your eyes." Faith shot back, eyes full of victory. Angel chuckled dryly at her retort,

"Maybe I'm not _that_ much of a gentleman."

The two looked at each other for a long minute, Faith trying to discern whether he was joking or serious, and Angel trying to figure out how far he was willing to take this. He could see the hesitation in her face, wondering whether he was genuinely keeping watch over her to ship her off to Sunnydale. Or whether this was something else. He could see the hurt and turmoil behind her eyes, hinted at but not quite formed, he could dismiss it, reassure her. But in that moment, he was enjoying her not assuming she had the upper hand.

Faith found her security in one simple fact, everybody played by the rules; she didn't. For once he wanted to have the upper hand, even for a moment, just to watch her squirm. It seemed they were in a stalemate, she didn't move, neither did he avert his gaze. It was like a game of Chicken, but with far higher stakes than the regular version.

That was when Angel realised a part of him wanted to see what was under that towel, justifications could only take him so far. This Faith, stripped of her disguise, make-up, was beautiful. Different. There was something screaming inside his head, buried deeply in his subconscious. He could feel it pulse through him, could feel it driving him, but couldn't hear what it was saying. Her clothes had become her armour, her identity in his head. Without it she was just a girl, a girl who was a lot younger than he, a girl who had been through so much. The vampire in him sought out vulnerability even when he had no conscious part of it.

Thoroughly ashamed of himself Angel dropped his gaze, he was supposed to be watching out for her, not goading her into being an exhibitionist, he made to apologise and leave. There was one thing playing a game when neither of them cared about the outcome, but if she did take that towel down and he wanted to see it, well it felt a lot more underhanded than a mere power play.

He stopped his half formed apology when he risked a glance at her, Faith's expression wasn't playful any longer, nor was she looking at him. Turning his head slightly to the left, imperceptibly, he focused his senses on the dark corner. There were so many shadows in these rooms. How had he not remembered the reasons he disliked them before? Half of this room was black, almost unnaturally so, everything stopped. He didn't move. He'd even ceased his comforting facsimile of breathing.

Faith had sensed it before him because he was distracted, but now whatever was lurking in the dark had his full attention too.

Something moved behind him, Angel's fist connected with it by mere reflex, making a loud sickening crack.

The slayer didn't have time to speak, or inspect what Angel had started fighting because there were more demons coming in through the open balcony door, she was on the balls of her feet and already trading punches by the time Angel had taken his attention off whatever had already been in the room. The vampire grunted as he blocked a punch from the demon, then landed an uppercut to the demons torso sending it sprawling into a wall, were it's head connected in a shower of plaster and ancient wallpaper, the demon fell unconscious to the floor. One down.

"Faith. Clothes." This was an order, he certainly wasn't looking at her anymore.

"Angel, _priorities_." Faith retorted quickly, whilst spinning on her heal sending a high kick into the face of a demon, unfortunately the demon saw it coming and grabbed her leg, then using her own momentum, spun her into the air and let go. She landed on her stomach with an audible '_umph_' but was quick enough to backwards roll, both her feel connecting with the jaw of another demon that was about to bend over and presumably finish her. She was back on her feet, but there were two more behind her and one in front. They were strange looking things, about five foot high. Their skin was almost translucent? No, she was mistaken, it wasn't translucent at all, it was changing, all the while to match what was behind it. They were wearing black morph suits which didn't change colour, but their arms, hands, face and necks all did. Real-time camouflage where their normal skin must be. "Chameleon demons?" She threw out through grunts.

It was actually really cool.

One grabbed her wrist, Faith twisted and heard it's arm snap but she didn't have time to enjoy it because another was already on her.

"Faith. Get into the bathroom!" Angel was grabbed from behind by two of them almost as soon as he spoke, they were like ants, every one you killed yielded a dozen more. There were too many of them. Luckily his order had made Faith glance at him, as the two demons gripped onto his arm. Angel pulled the left one, with his full strength, it did little to dislodge his arm but it caught the demon off enough that when Faith rolled forward and swept a leg underneath it, the thing let go and fell to the ground. Angel used his now freed left arm and connected his fist with the other demons nose. It stumbled slightly, but it's grip didn't falter, the thing was smart though and enlisted it's full strength to propel Angel through the window. Both crashed into the crumbling veranda. Faith heard the concrete balustrade give way and her head snapped towards the door.

"Angel?" she yelled, turning back to the demon and breaking it's neck with a second wind. The slayer couldn't get to the window straight away. There were still two demons in her line of sight, weren't there more? It was hard to tell as she couldn't see them very well. Their strange skin coupled with the black jumpsuits threw her off. At least one had gone out of the window with Angel. Without looking Faith had grabbed the ancient chair, spun it up so that she could get a better grip on it and in a swift motion spun a chair up and caught it in two hands, she then smashed it over the demon's head pushing it into the other one, bringing the chair down atop their heads, they were out cold, the chair was splintered and Faith was left holding two sticks that used to be arms.

That dealt with, Faith rushed over to the window, making a grab at her towel as it slipped, fixing it once again, tightly around herself as she glanced over the edge down into the blackness. The rain was coming hard and fast, it was difficult to see anything at all. Whilst calling Angel's name desperately into the night, one of the demons that apparently wasn't as unconscious as she had thought now had his hand around the back of Faith's neck, she would herself a million times after the event why he threw her backwards onto a squat coffee table, instead of out of the window following Angel. But right then, all she really took in was the sharp pain as she landed awkwardly on the solid wood.

At the bottom of the hotel, Angel wasn't feeling too spry either. Dusting himself off and checking to make sure anything wasn't too damaged, he glanced around. Next to him he looked up at a rather prickly looking tree.

"This could have ended worse" he noted, before snapping his shoulder back into place without so much as a grimace. He hadn't been outside long and he was already drenched. It was game-face on now and the pain was secondary to the worry about Faith and the burning anger that aroused in him whenever his adrenaline picked up. It was a good job Faith hadn't been the one thrown out the window, she might have been stronger than him, but he was a lot harder to kill.

Walking straight back into the hotel, slamming both doors open as he went, Gunn and Wesley jumped before looking at him. They were in the midst of pouring over the local newspapers trying to find work.

"What happened? Not Faith?" Wesley asked, automatically fearing the worst. Angel's face was bleeding, his coat torn and there looked to be a severe gash on the side of his head.

"Took a flying lesson" Angel said, he grabbed a sword from the artillery cupboard and gripped it tightly, then to the other men he explained "grab some weapons. We've got visitors." By the time Wesley and Gunn had moved to get weapons, Angel had already disappeared up the stairs at a run.

"Party time." Gunn smiled,

"It appears so." Wesley concurred, not looking nearly as excited about is as Gunn did.


	3. Door Lock

**Chapter 3: Door Lock**

* * *

Upstairs things weren't looking good for Faith, she'd broken something when she hit the table, laying belly down she wasn't sure what it was, but she couldn't move without white spots of agony blistering her field of vision. The demon had her head gripped tightly, fingers knotted in her hair he was just about to snap her neck when a voice spoke up from the window.

"Why haven't you killed the slayer yet? She's the one we were supposed to kill!" Faith squirmed and the demon dropped her to the floor in front of the vampire. As her head rose up she took in the contorted face of a vampire, she felt like she should recognise him but she didn't. As the words she was about to speak where almost out of her mouth, the vampire pulled and baseball bat from behind him and brought it up under her jaw, there was a loud crack and Faith was out cold.

Seconds later Angel was stood in the doorway, cursing himself for always being that little bit too late. No, not quite too late after all, he saw the vampire yank the unconscious slayer out, about to bite her, and he growled loudly.

"Boys!" The vampire yelled and Angel heard windows of the nearby rooms smash, unfortunately the vampire that was holding Faith was introduced to the table beneath her, long before the cavalry arrived. Angel tried to carry her but he her something crack and winced, laying her down on the bed he deduced that it was probably better for now that she was out cold. He could already hear a commotion out in the corridor and he felt somewhat relieved that it sounded like Gunn and Wesley had caught up. He was about to head out when he felt a grip on his wrist, turning to Faith he shook his head.

"Don't you dare move. I got this."

"I'm fine. Just bones." Though she could move a little already, sometimes she really loved being the Slayer.

"Well at least you go help" she commanded "I got tabled. What's your excuse for being lazy?"

"I got thrown out of a window!"

"And you call yourself a badass."

"I've never once called myself that."

A grunt from outside the room, brought Angel back to what he should be doing. Leaving Faith on the bed, he headed out to help the others. It wasn't much of a fight, without their boss the demons seemed more intent on fleeing. With the last demon gone, Angel turned to Gunn.

"We're going to need your van - " the three made their way to the Slayer's bedside, she was grimacing on the edge of the bed. Clearly trying to stand up.

"I think my leg's broken. And maybe my hip – but if I hear one joke about my age I'll be happy do demonstrate how strong I still am."

"I'm on it, we'll get you to the hospital, just to get checked out. Wesley, call and ambulance. I don't really want to move her."

"Not to be disrespectful and all, boss. But we have a mad powerful witch downstairs - " Angel cut Gunn of before he had chance to finish,

"Willow shouldn't be messing with too much magic. Let's do this the old fashioned way."

"Morphine. Morphine would be very good. But not an ambulance." Faith piped in through gritted teeth.

"Remember she might be the slayer but she's still human."

"And I'm all on the side of going where there's morphine, help me up" Faith insisted. She vaguely remembered thinking that pain had been good, in this moment she'd changed her mind. Gunn headed downstairs to pull the van around, whilst Angel and Wesley hooked their arms under Faith's shoulders to help support the lame slayer without jarring her too much.

"You are not as light as you look!" Wesley observed.

Faith glowered.

"Put some back into it Wes" Angel chuckled "we have a lot of stairs to get her down yet."

"Or we could use the lift?" The former watcher pointed out incredulously.

"Lift it is."

Wesley that watched from the window as the van sped off into the LA night, at least the rain had cleared for now, even if the rain-clouds did threaten more. How many times would he let that woman down in his lifetime? Once again she was under their care and she'd almost been murdered. It was a thin line he trod with her, regret, fear, shame. But some part of her now was growing, changing, he understood regret, he had done things that he couldn't begin to make up for and things that he doubted Angel specifically would ever truly forgive him for. They shared a burden.

"So new locks, you sure? Won't Angel be upset? I mean, he never seems to keen on the witchery when I bring it up." Willow looked at Wesley, sceptically.

"Something has knocked out the no-demon-violence spell, I don't know what it is, but we need to do something. We can't just have every demon in LA able to walk in and kill us all at a moments notice. We'll figure out a work around to make sure Angel and Lorne are still able to be here. And Cordelia. It shouldn't be too hard. We don't have a choice, Angel can't always be here to protect everybody." Was the only answer she got.

"You hit the books then, and I'll see what I can rustle up for a make-shift magic-party, just like old times" Willow forced a smile and then hesitated. She turned to Fred, "do you have any candles laying around?"

"We should do, Wesley you'd probably have a better idea that me. Except the way you're looking at me, you guys want to talk, so I shall go and look and make myself scarce." She disappeared out of the room, making sure to not-quite close the door behind her.

"One day you're going to have to stop blaming yourself for everything bad that happens to Faith."

"You don't understand, I was supposed to shape her, help her and I-"

"I get it. I do. We all have guilt. We've all done stuff. We're not kids anymore. And I'm not going to lie and say '_oh no of course you didn't let Faith down_' because you did. Once upon a time. But she'd let you down too. She's a big girl now. She's perfectly capable of making her own mistakes. Sooner or later you have to let them grow up and take responsibility for their actions."

"I know. I still want to do this, irrespective of Faith. Too many vampires and demon's walk in and out of here at a moment's notice for me to not want to do something. Next time it might not be a slayer who gets attacked. It could be Fred. Or Cordelia." He pushed a heavy tome over to Willow. She read through the protection spell and nodded slowly.

"Fine. I'll help. It's not like I'm going anywhere any time soon. But this is for you guys, to help out, not to mask some sense of redemption you have over Faith going cuckoo. Or about stealing Angel's son because of a bogus prophecy, yeah I heard about that. Things happen and sooner or later we have to stop punishing ourselves. We don't live in a world where we can always be careful."

Wesley didn't respond, just watched Willow carefully, silently, clearly done talking about things. He had been spending far too much time with Angel, Willow concluded, giving up on conversation she rolled her eyes and sat down in front of the book.

"Fine. I'm going to need plates, five of them. Maybe six to be safe. Some dirt, blessed water, lavender, sulpher" a pause "some grass and an empty bowl. Please." Wesley stood up and headed out of the room "oh and some chalk. I'm probably going to need to draw on the floor. It doesn't have to be chalk but Angel might get a bit annoyed if there's permanent marker on his floor." When he returned he had all of the items, plus candles which were being carried in by Lorne. Willow made to start arranging everything and glanced at the floor. "This will probably need to be done in the foyer. I'm going to need a lot of room. Especially as I only half know what I'm going to do!" She grabbed as much as she could carry, Wesley grabbed the rest.

"Anything I can do?" Lorne asked, seeing that everything had been picked up.

"A chalice of boiling water, if you don't mind?"

"Wonderful," Lorne clapped his hands together "anybody else for tea?"

At this point Fred had appeared too, with more candles, and the girls began lighting them and placing them in a circle. Once it was done and Willow had all her ingredients to hand, she sat cross legged inside the circle.

"Right, here goes nothing. Oh and try not to step inside the circle, I can't promise you won't get fried or turned into a frog or something." Shivering at her own mental image, Willow moved the bowls in front of her and picked up a handful of dirt. Lorne had already past the pot of boiling water too her and was now watching, whilst reclining on one of the chairs, sipping his tea out of a china cup.

"Does anybody else feel like we should have popcorn?" His tone was hushed.

Willow took a deep breath and started to chant slowly. The words flowing from her mouth as if she had memorised them, more than that, like she was fluent and had never spoken anything else.

"Eilimintí maith sibh harken, thoghairm mé dhuit anois. Rialú ar an taobh amuigh, a rialú laistigh de. Talamh agus Farraige, Dóiteáin agus Gaoth. As mo paisin, ar an ngréasán a bheith sníofa. Ón síol, beidh mo a dhéanamh, mar sin mote sé a bheith."

At her words the contents of the plates started spinning in a circle around her, after this she threw the dirt on the floor, an act which caused the very ground they stood on the shake violently.

"What language is that?" Fred hissed nervously to Wesley grabbing onto his arm as she stumbled, Wesley was quick to secure his grip on her, holding her steady.

"Gaelic I think" he glanced at her "why?"

"I thought spells were mostly Latin. Where did you find it?"

"I found it in one of the books in the office a few weeks ago, I didn't really think about it but with everything going on. I had to change adapt a few specific things. As for language it depends where they were derived, it's intent rather than language. Words help our minds focus on an idea of what we want. There are cults scattered around that have transcended the use of words almost entirely within magic-" the building shook again, Wesley realised Fred had stopped really listening and was now staring up at a rather prominent crack that had appearing in the ceiling. Willow wasn't paying attention, she was completely lost in the spell, eyes unseeing, lips moving as she chanted and channelled the energy. Not for the first time, Wesley was grateful that Willow was on their side.

The rumbling ceased and a gale-force wind swept around the room, sending papers flying and almost knocking them over. By this point people could barely see Willow for the dirt, water and debris that was swirling around the circle. The noise level was akin with standing next to a tornado.

""Curarea his verbes, a aditus recrissus est. Curarea his herbes, a aditus est" Willow said, firmly as if speaking to a person. Fred noted the use of Latin and shot a knowing look to Wesley, who couldn't help but smile when he rolled his eyes. This was different, Willow was no longer reciting the spell, instead she was talking to somebody. She tried the same sentence in Gaelic, and then in several languages Wesley didn't understand, or even recognise. He made a mental note to ask her about them later.

Then it was gone. The building stopped shaking, the wind was gone in an instant. And Willow was back, standing up amidst the mess she had created she frowned at Wesley a little.

"That wasn't a protection spell. What was it?"

"It was. I had to alter a few things, I found it in a book in the office." Wesley's tone full of genuine confusion, and worry, more worry that in doing something to try and help he'd once again inadvertently done something horrible. Willow's face softened at his clean anguish and she stepped forward,

"Let's find that book, I'm not sure what it was, but it definitely wasn't anything I've come close to doing before. We have to figure out exactly what we've done before Angel gets back"

"Who were you talking to?"

"What do you mean?"

"You were talking to somebody, trying different languages?"

"I was? I don't" Willow's steps faltered a bit, "I can't remember. I remember the spell feeling different, it wasn't going to work, I was doing it wrong and then boom, it clicked."

"Somebody is interfering."

"The '_big bad_'?" The redhead looked worried.

"We definitely need to look at that spell properly before Angel gets back." The two hurried into the office.

Angel looked around at the claustrophobic white walls. He knew most people disliked hospitals and he wondered if it was because they smelt of death. The average human didn't know what death smelt like, though they were confronted with it often enough – in fairness hospitals did their best to try and disguise the smell. Bleach. Cleaner. They were supposed to smell sterile, but Angel could always pick up the subtle smell that over-rode it all. Survival, people disliked being reminded of their mortality. Hospitals were churches to mortality, they were where most people ended their lives.

Gunn was sitting on one of the cold plastic seats, designated to those who were waiting, his heavy boots were up on the white table and he was flipping half-heartedly through a magazine. Angel could tell he was bored, he didn't much care. The vampire was far too fixated on what was happening with Faith, he wasn't sure what enquiries would be made into her injuries, be he knew they couldn't afford for anybody to access her records or connect her to the escaped felon. If they dug too deeply or asked too many questions then they'd be in real trouble.

"Faye?" a nurse announced, reading off a clip-board and glancing around the few panic-stricken few that were waiting for, presumably, news of their loved-ones. "Is anybody here for Faye Gunn-" it took Angel a moment to regression the fake name they'd given her upon signing in. He'd almost said Faith but Gunn had quickly interrupted. They'd signed her in as Faye Gunn, the fictitious wife of Charles. Deep down Angel couldn't help but feel strange about that. He'd had no last name to give her, not one he'd used in centuries anyway.

"Yes. Me. Well, us." Angel headed towards her. Gunn dropped the magazine down with a slap and walked over too.

"Well she's sedated, she's had a lot of painkillers. She's dislocated a hip but we've managed to re-set it. Also there's a fracture in her femur, she's going to be out for a while" the woman explained, scanning the chart in her hands. "We'd like to get as much information as we can about how she came about the injuries and we'd hoping you'd be able to tell us? She's had an ultra-sound and there doesn't seem to be any internal bleeding, but without knowing-"

"Didn't she tell you?" Angel didn't want to raise suspicions by telling an entirely different story than Faith.

"Actually, she's being rather difficult. She wants to leave but with the sedative we gave her and the extent of her injuries-"

"Let me talk to her" Angel interrupted, he had that charming smile on his lips, the one that usually got him his way. The one that Buffy had always told her creeped her out because it reminded her too much of Angelus.

"Are you her husband?"

"That'd be me" Gunn piped up, standing up and walking over, when she gave Angel a questioning look Gunn smiled "that's her brother."

"She has this thing about hospitals, I can calm her down, make her see sense."

"We can only let one of you in, her husband is her next of kin so.."

"He can't deal with her like I can." The nurse looked even more sceptical, shooting questioning looks to Gunn. Realising they couldn't draw too much attention to themselves Gunn rolled his eyes dramatically,

"Look man, sooner or later you're going to have to accept that I'm her husband and I can look after her too. Sit tight. I got this." He could feel Angel's gaze boring into the back of his skull, but Gunn had much more experience with dealing with people than Angel did.

"He'll have to wait out here."

"I'll fill you in when I come back. There's an article in that issue of Vanity Fair that you might enjoy. Sit tight." His tone was amicable but there was a hint of enjoyment in it. He could see Angel was struggling internally with whether to complain louder or worse, push his way in. Gunn's tone softened slightly "we need somebody out here in case anybody else comes to make sure she's okay." For a horrible moment he thought that Angel wouldn't get the subtle message about watching for cops, but he nodded after a long moment and Gunn left the vampire pacing in the waiting room. He had no idea why he was so wound up about all of this, but he sort of hoped Angel would find something to hit so that he could work out his tension.

Gunn was already dealing with having his heart broken, he couldn't deal with Angel's post-Angelus anxiety on top of that.

It wasn't hard to find Faith and saw the nurse cringe as they got close, he could hear her yelling from a corridor away, veering towards the curtained off area where the argument was coming from he walked in.

"Chill Sweetie" his tone was firm, the pet name was enough to make Faith pause and regard him in horrified disgust, it took a second before she remembered their rouse. "The quicker they can treat you, the quicker we'll be out of here" So much for sedated, she'd already pulled the IV out of her arm and was sitting half off the bed, weight on her good leg.

"Look, there's absolutely nothing wrong with me, I'm fine. I just needed a bit of a painkiller and now I'm good." She stood up as if to prove her point, the two nurses that were standing with her flinched at first and made to catch her, but when she stood up normally they looked more than a little confused. Gunn wondered how much that hurt, and gained a little respect for the slayer who was willing to go through that much pain just to prove a point and save face.

"Sit down" Gunn instructed gently, taking her arm, Faith scowled at the hand on her, then at him, then back to the arm. Then she sat down "honey I know you don't like hospitals but you're hurt, it makes no sense to create a scene and take up all their time, they have other patients to see. Don't worry I'll talk some sense into her." The nurses looked uneasy.

"We need to get her back on the monitor, and get that IV back in."

"You can try!" Faith threatened, Gunn rolled his eyes then stepped away to the nurses "I don't know if her brother put in on her chart but she's borderline schizophrenic, if you give me a minute to talk her down then if that doesn't work I'll call up her psychiatrist and we can talk sedatives? At the moment she'll argue everything, she's really terrified of hospitals. And after falling down the stairs like she did-" he held his hands out and let the gesture finish the sentence for him.

"Okay but don't give her any medications, I'll go and have a word with the doctor."

"Thank you, you see, she'll be a different person when you get back."

The nurses drew the curtain and dispersed, especially as Faith had already seemed to have calmed down and was sitting on the bed watching Gunn. Her arms were folded and as soon as he was close enough to the bed she smacked him on the arm, albeit lightly.

"Crazy am I?"

"How else was I going to explain that?"

"I get the feeling you talk your way out of things a lot."

"Trick of growing up on the streets. You learn pretty quickly that most people want an easy life. They want to do their jobs, without trouble or extra stress so if you give them an adequate reason to ignore or disengage from a situation, most walk away."

"I don't think I've ever walked away from a situation."

Gunn chuckled softly and shook his head,

"Well you certainly don't believe in making things easy? How are you now, do you think you can walk?"

"A little sore, but I'll manage."

"Good because we need to be gone by the time they come back, if they admit you, we'll never get you out."

"No pressure then."

It was probably the morphine that was keeping her on her feet, but her slayer-healing was on top form today. Already there was the ache gone from her hip whenever she tried to move it, and though her leg felt a little sluggish, she was sure that would be manageable by morning too. She'd definitely had worse. She stood up again and managed to barely wince this time, she practised taking a step.

"I'll go and get you some clothes."

Without speaking, Gunn vanished for a few minutes, when he came back he handed Faith some scrubs, which was probably a step up from the thin hospital gown she was currently wearing. Stepping outside again whilst she changed, Gunn was seriously hoping that she wouldn't need help getting changed. He liked the slayer, she was hot and he wouldn't deny that having a bit of fun might take his mind off Fred for ten minutes. But he was unsure as to what kind of relationship Angel and Faith had, the body language and signals were confusing and the last thing he wanted was to lose another friend. Faith came out with her clip-board from the end of the bed. Gunn was impressed that she managed to walk with the barest of limps. Props in place the two walked out, albeit slowly as he let the slayer set the pace.

"What took you so long?" Angel almost growled when they walked through the door, falling into pace beside them, keeping close to Faith in case she stumbled, Gunn was amazed that the vampire hadn't worn a dent in the floor with his pacing.

"Let's just get to the van" Faith instructed, opening the door and climbed in the passenger side, embarrassingly Faith struggled climbing with her legs and so with Gunn in the front, Angel helped Faith into the back.

"You in tight?" Gunn asked, revving the engine,

"As good as we will be."

"Back to the hotel then."

The two in the back felt the van start up and Faith let out a relieved breath,

"That was a pain in the ass just for some morphine."

"It seems to have worked."

"I think if it wasn't for your man over there I'd be back in orange by now."

"Don't mention it" Gunn grinned, Faith smiled but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Angel asked, softly, Gunn as if taking the hint perfectly turned on the radio, masking him from the conversation of the two in the back.

"I'll live. A good nights sleep and a long ride to Sunnyhell and I'll be right as rain and ready to face another apocalypse." Faith was sitting awkwardly, clearly struggling to get comfortable, Angel placed a hand on her calf tentatively and she looked at him curiously.

"You're welcome to stay for a few more days, you've really done your leg in, nobody will think less of you-"

"I'm not sure the apocalypse will wait for me to be at full game again,"

"If it wasn't for me-"

"Then I'd still be sitting in a five by five cell, oblivious to what was going on. I can take a few beatings. I'm doing good here Angel. I got you back. You're going to save this end of the world. I'll follow my fate where it leads. Knowing my luck I'll survive it and have to go back to prison for the rest of my life." Angel frowned,

"Don't surrender."

"I never do. That's nice" she sighed, indicating to his hand, clearly changing the subject "better than an ice pack."

"Well, I'm good for some things at least."

Something was happening here, Angel had no idea what but the thought of Faith going twisted him up in ways he didn't understand. "After Sunnydale, if you really want to atone, come back here. There'll always be room for you."

"Maybe" Faith agreed, in the way of one who didn't think there was much chance of it happening, the resignation in her eyes worried Angel, her attention moved to the window, Angel's hand moved a little higher up her leg. She'd been inside his head, she knew all of his biggest failures, worries, and yet he knew very little of hers. Unconsciously she'd shifted towards him so that his hand had been more comfortable on her leg, when she looked back he realised how close they'd gotten. He could feel her breath on his skin. He'd never wanted to kiss Faith, never thought about it, but in that moment it felt almost reflexive, like a need pulsing inside of him to just close the short gap between them and kiss her. Reassure her. Give her a reason to fight.

"We're here" Gunn announced and the engine died, turning to look in the back he looked somewhat embarrassed, "do you guys need a minute?"

"No" Angel shook his head, pulling his hand back, all too aware of the questioning, confused look Faith had fixed him with. "Lets get her inside." Whatever was going on between them, they could talk about it inside when Faith was comfortable and without the sound of rain drumming onto the roof.

Willow was drinking tea, they'd cleaned up most of the mess but she hadn't been able to figure out a way to undo what she had done, and so wasn't feeling particularly happy about the whole situation. Trying to remember the conversation, she and Wesley hadn't had any luck in translating what Wesley had heard either. It was time to confess to Angel and see if he could figure it all out. She'd suggested that maybe they warn Angel beforehand but Wesley had insisted that it was best to see exactly what happened first.

And so they waited with baited breathe as the three walked up the stairs, Gunn entered first without issue, came in and asked why everybody was staring at the door. Angel and Faith brought up the rear, Angel was all but propping Faith up now, an arm around her as she was clearly getting tired. Even if she was annoyed that he thought she couldn't handle herself. They were arguing about it as they walked up the path, but Faith didn't seem to be actively trying to get Angel off her.

Angel slammed straight into an invisible barrier which threw him backwards, losing his grip on the slayer he had to blink a few times before he could see anything other than blinding white light. When he could focus again he looked to the people inside.

"What the Hell?"

"Protection spell. We think."

"On my hotel, without asking me? Or warning me. Wait, what do you mean you _think_?"

"Wesley made me do it" Willow blurted quickly, shooting an apologetic look to the accused, then she shifted her weight on her feet sheepishly.

"You could have at least given me a heads up. That's given me one hell of a headache." He touched his temple tenderly.

"Come in then" Fred rolled her eyes at the others for not saying it "geez, lock a guy out and don't even invite him back in why don't ya'." Angel thanked her and walked in,

"So are you going to tell me what exactly happened here?" His annoyance was more directed at his head throbbing than any real anger towards the people involved.

"I just wanted to stop the almost weekly occurrence of somebody ending up bloody and beaten" he explained with a poignant look towards the redheaded witch, "this is our home and though it's all very good that the deed are owned by a dead man-"

"Er guys" Willow interrupted "where did Faith go?"

"She was right there with Angel..." Gunn answered,

"Then, er, where is she?"

Everybody turned to look at the door, Angel walked and glanced outside.

The slayer was nowhere to be seen.


	4. Forward to the Past

**Chapter 4: Forward To The Past**

* * *

Faith didn't want to open her eyes, waking up slowly she could feel the pleasant dream she was having slipping away, her consciousness returning slowly, lines fuzzy and blurred. Like on one of those days you just know you're feeling ill and so you try and put off the inevitable by sleeping longer. When she did finally open them it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the room. It wasn't somewhere she recognised, but the darkness was ominous, usually there was some form of light somewhere. Hadn't she just been with Angel? Had she passed out? The only source of light came from underneath a door at the other end of the room. She could tell there was a window on the opposite wall because she could feel a chilly draft coming from that direction. Through the window she could see stars but nothing else. Just glittering white dots breaking up undefined inky-blackness. It was surreal. Standing up and moving to the window, she placed her hands out and realised the only reason she could she stars and nothing else was because the window was boarded up. Pulling off a few of the loose bits of wood, she didn't see much more definition. Fields. Maybe a smattering of trees in the distance. The moonlight looked completely different to anything she had seen before.

With a shiver the slayer pulled her arms around herself, with a frown she realised she was naked. The ground beneath her feet was soft and malleable and she deduced quickly it was either sand or dirt. Wonderful, why was it whenever she woke up lately it was in a different place, disorientated and lost. And who the Hell had stolen her clothes? Was she drugged again? Her head was pounding and she pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes for a long moment.

First things first she was cold, there had to be a blanket or some clothes around somewhere. Moving around the room, her eyes adjusted slowly and she began to see more. Barrels for a start, stacked up all around the room. Crates too. So this was a storage room of some sort? Continuing her search she eventually found something that felt like material, pulling it from between two crates she shook it out. It was a tattered old dress that somebody had evidently began using as a cleaning rag. It smelt of ammonia, must and stale beer. Faith cringed, mostly because she was kind of out of options. Grimacing she pulled it only over her head, feeling like the reversed-version of Cinderella.

"And you shall go the ball" she muttered to herself "and get thrown out because you smell of piss and dirt."

That smell was disgusting, she was almost sure she'd been better off naked, though she didn't take it off as she headed to the door. At least it was warm, even if it was stiff and crusty in places. Making her way up the short ladder, feeling for the steps so that she didn't fall, she began climbing to the door. Opening it slowly, the light was a shock. Blinking Faith walked out into the light, squinting a little at the sudden change. This was a bar, she'd recognise it anywhere, that smell, the noise. The floor was covered in straw which felt strange against her bare feet, straw on top of stone, the lanterns flickered strangely from the sconce's on the wall and everybody looked like they'd escaped from the history channel.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore Toto" she muttered to herself, nobody gave her a second glance, which was weird because she thought that her smell alone might be enough to attract attention. Was this a themed bar? Some ye olde tavern type thing? The bartender usually knew what was going on so to the bar she headed. Faith certainly had questions. And by this point more than a couple of people were eyeing her up suspiciously.

"You lost Lass?" the bartender asked, with a heavy Irish accent, leaning heavily on the bar and watching her. Faith was quickly trying to figure out how to handle this situation, she'd been in many bars but only now was she noticing that she was the only woman. Well no, looking closer there were two others, both sat on the laps of different men. Their dresses were nicer than hers, their breasts practically falling out of the corsets of their dresses. No wonder people were looking at her, if that was the type of woman who frequented the bar she was practically over-dressed.

"Can I get a drink?"

"Do you have any coin?"

Faith frowned, unless there was a hidden purse somewhere in the rags she was wearing, she guessed not. Her face must have given her away because another man at the bar piped up,

"I'll buy ye a drink!"

The slayer arched an eyebrow and decided that she was perfectly willing to let him. The bartender seemed happy enough with that and soon enough Faith was holding a glass of beer. Except the amber liquid didn't smell like beer. And the 'glass' was made of wood. Still it was alcoholic, she could tell that from the first sip, and Faith was never one to turn down alcohol. She finished the drink in one gulp, _if ever there was a reason to need a beer,_ and put the pint down on the bar.

"Thanks" she shot at the guy, "that was probably the most disgusting thing I've ever put in my mouth. But thanks. Now is there a hotel around here? Or a phone? Or better yet a hotel with a phone. And a bath. And a mall?" A few of the men around the bar were looking at her now, evidently not comprehending a word she was saying. "I guess I'll head out and look myself then."

"You're not going so soon after Jimmy here was kind enough to buy you a drink are ya Lass?"

"Yes. I wasn't aware the buying of a drink was a binding contract to stay."

"It's just manners" 'Jimmy' chipped in, grabbing Faith's arm. The Slayer frowned, glanced down at where he held her and then regarded the man with some amusement.

"I'm not a very polite person, keep your hand on my arm and I'll gladly demonstrate."

"You do always find the feisty ones Jimmy." The letch behind the bar chuckled. Jimmy yanked her close and she felt his hot breath on her face, it smelled of whiskey, _good_ whiskey actually.

"You've been holding out on me Jimmy" she chastised, before snaking a hand around the back of his neck and slamming his face into the bar. He rebounded back with a crunch and Faith smiled innocently enough, "thanks for the drink."

Faith turned and stalked out of the bar, well aware how many eyes were on her.

The outside was even more overwhelming than inside, there were houses sure enough but they certainly didn't look like anything she was used to. Closely packed together, the streets were cobble stone and dirt, the moon shone overhead which at least told her that it was closing in on midnight.

"Where am I?" She asked herself, befuddled.

"You're in Galway" somebody spoke from behind her, Faith spun and her eyes widened, "but I'd assume you'd know that. I mean, ye must've gotten here somehow."

"Angel?"

"I'm no angel Love" was that a slur? Faith frowned. The man standing in front of her looked the image of Angel, same voice, same face, same towering height. Except there was a flush in his cheeks, his lips were wet with saliva and his hair, though attempted to be pulled back, was hanging messily around his face. It wasn't Angel, was she back in their mutual dream? "You've got a task ahead of you if you're looking for one of them." This was surreal, she was listening to him speak but not really comprehending.

"Angelus" she intoned warily,

"Oh now you're just making up words lass." He stepped closer.

Faith stepped back, she had a healthy fear of the vampire.

Except something wasn't right, but she couldn't place her finger on exactly what, so she stood there, almost transfixed, staring at him. He watched her equally as closely, after a long beat he made to touch her arm and she grabbed his arm roughly. He winced.

Angelus, one of the most viscous vampires that ever existed, winced at her barely exerting any strength. She didn't let go, she was about to tell him to quit the act when she felt something that made her drop his hand quickly, pushing him back in the process. He stumbled.

Angel had a pulse.

"You-"

"Me name is Liam" he offered, watching her curiously, clearly now wondering whether she was altogether there. No matter really, she was pretty enough and that was enough for him. "And you are?"

"Totally confused. What year is this?"

"I think maybe you should lay off the beer in future Lass."

"What?" She frowned "you were in the bar?"

"I was. I saw what you did to ol' Jimmy too. Had it comin' if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you." Faith snapped, her confusion making her tetchy.

"It's seventeen-fifty-three. May. Thursday. A little after eleven. If that helps ye any." He was toying with her now, she could see it in his eyes, the spark of enthusiasm, like she was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. It made the sides of Faith's mouth curl up in a smile that she tried to hide.

Her mind was busy trying to process the information. How had she time travelled, was this real? How was she going to get back? Where was she supposed to go? What had happened? The last thing she remembered she had been at the hotel with Angel, then there had been a bright light and she'd woken up on the floor of the bar.

Faith tried to slow her brain and process facts. She was in the seventeen hundreds, she didn't know much about Angelus, or _anything_ about his life beforehand. But it didn't take a genius to figure out that she was looking at the man that had come before.

Angelus before he had slaughtered thousands of people.

Angel before he had spent years hiding in a sewer, moping and feeding off rats.

Before he'd ever met Buffy Summers.

That thought sent a shiver through Faith.

"Liam?" She said the name slowly, double checking she had it right, he nodded and she smiled. "I'm Fai-" this was the past. Who knew what damage she could do here. Yes this could be a dream, some residual magic left over from their brain-trip, but if it wasn't – and it certainly didn't feel like it – then the last thing she wanted to do was ruin the future. She'd seen Back to the Future way too many times for that. Falling back into using the name she had been given at the hospital.

"Faye? That's a pretty name."

"So why exactly did you follow me?" She deftly ignored his compliment.

"I thought you might need some help, a pretty little thing could get herself into trouble, wandering the streets at this hour." Somehow, she doubted his '_noble_' intentions. Her eyes said as much, and he grinned clearly understanding, "I had an idea it might be more fun than wasting away another night in a bar."

"Well, I've certainly never been called boring."

She turned and the movement gave her a wiff of herself, Faith cringed and Angel arched an eyebrow. "Don't judge me, you don't smell much better yourself. And I woke up naked on a basement floor, what's your excuse?" Liam's eyes widened a little and he was about to make further enquiries when Faith caught sight of a dress in a shop window. A pane of thin glass, warped and distorted her already grim reflection.

"'Tis a pretty dress. A shame they're not open until morning." He observed, Faith arched an eyebrow challengingly. This was the past plus she wasn't even entirely sure this was even real and not some residual backlash of the drugs. It was a refreshing thought, surely as long as she didn't hurt anybody her conscience could remain in check. With a swift kick, Faith shattered the pane of glass, it fell around her bare feet satisfyingly. Then, gingerly, she stepped onto the rickety stage that the dress was displayed on and pulled it off the crude mannequin.

"If you'd have asked," Liam said, standing inside the shop, "I'd have told ye that she ne'er locks the door."

Faith frowned a little, feeling a little silly, she was holding the dress and looking at it like it was a foreign object.

"How do I work this thing?"

Liam chuckled,

"I can't help you, I've plenty of experience in getting woman out of them, but not in."

"Well you're pretty useless then aren't you. You keep watch, I'm going to try this thing on. And no peaking." She winked, Liam smirked.

"I certainly can't promise that."

Faith decided in that moment, especially as the man walked to the open door and made a point of looking up and down the deserted street, that she really liked pre-Angel Angel.

* * *

**Present Day**

* * *

"Where is she?" Angel growled, they'd been over the text time and time again, but couldn't fine anything that would cause a living slayer to disappear into the abyss. Or in fact anything at all that might explain why anybody had gone missing.

"She might have just run Angel, taken the chance whilst we were distracted, we all know-" Angel glowered at Wesley, it was becoming harder and harder for the vampire to forgive his accidental, well intentions screw ups.

"She wouldn't have."

It touched far too close to his own insecurities, he needed them to believe Faith could change, could be better, because if they couldn't then it meant they didn't really think it of him either. Yes he had a soul, but he'd done plenty of things with a soul he regretted. Faith was reformed, repentant, she just needed people to trust that. He refused to accept that she'd run away.

"I don't know, I've looked at this spell every which way and I don't know what's it done or how it's happened. Everything seems to have worked as intended, it wouldn't even send a vampire away. Why a slayer?" Willlow interjected cutting through the mounting tension still with some force left in her voice. Angel was about to say something when Wesley cut in,

"Angel, it's not her fault, she's tired. We can't do anything here." Wesley spoke firmly from behind Angel. A good distance behind. "We'll find out what happened to Faith, but we need to rest, Willow needs to get some sleep." Angel growled lowly, and slammed the book closed. Annoyed because they were right, but more annoyed because he was supposed to be helping Faith and now he'd lost her.

"Fine. You guys rest. I'm going to keep looking."

"I'll help" offered Fred, but Angel shook his head.

"No Wesley is right, we're not going to find her tonight."

"I told you we should have GPRS tagged her." Gunn joked, then all eyes turned to him and his expression demurred a little "what? I was kidding."

"There's a spell, one that Anya taught me."

"Anya?" Connor asked, leaning against the door frame. Angel wasn't sure exactly when he'd come downstairs but he was still to angry at his son to meet his eyes.

"A friend from home, she used to be a demon, it's a long story." Willow finished lamely as Connor's expression hardened.

"It'll work. At least, I think it will. It's simple enough, I can try it."

"Don't you think there's been enough magic today?" Fred asked, quietly, Willow looked at her for a long moment, remembering the last time somebody had said that too her. Her eyes saddened a little.

"It's just a locating spell. I can do it in ten minutes. It'll either work or it won't, but it can't hurt."

"Are you sure you feel up to this?" Angel asked, genuinely concerned, as much as he wanted to get Faith back, he wasn't going to risk anybody in order to do it.

"I'll be fine." Why did everybody always think she was going to keel over at one spell to many. It wasn't like she keeled over anyway, she just got a bit veiny, and yes okay, she was even losing that battle in her own head. But this was just a _little_ spell.

"Do you need ingredients?" Wesley asked, but Willow shook her head "just a pentagram. Oh look, there's already a pentagram" Willow frowned "guys why is there a pentagram?" Nobody gave her a solid answer,

"So what's the plan?"

"We summon Eryishon, to find what is lost."

Wesley's eyes widened a little,

"you're going to need something that belongs to Faith."

"Her bag's in the office, she doesn't have much." Gunn headed into the office, picked up a well-worn backpack and tossed it to the witch. "I figured I'd just bring the whole thing, better safe than sorry."

With a smile, Willow stepped into the pentagram,but left the bag outside of it, after a moment she began to speak.

_"Eryishon. K'shala. Meh-uhn."_

"There's usually a whole ritual that goes along with this" Wesley whispered to Angel, who arched an eyebrow.

"I'm going to go ahead and guess that Willow's done this before."

_"Diprecht. Doh-thenlo nu-eryshon,"_

"What makes you say that?" Wesley asked, curiously.

"_Child to the mother, mother to the sea. Eryishon, hear my prayer."_

"Just a hunch." Angel smiled.

Within the pentagram something shimmered, a voice began speaking, one that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. It stopped abruptly;

"Oh it's you."

"Hi" said Willow, a tad sheepishly, "I've lost my friend. Well she's not really my friend, more of an acquaintance. If that, really I mean-"

"Do you have something that belongs to her?" The voice was a lot more mundane now, like he was putting in less effort. Angel looked smug.

"The bag" the redhead pointed, "there."

Everything was quiet for a moment.

"You have your answer. Goodbye."

And the circle was devoid of presence again. Everybody looked at Willow expectantly, though she was frowning now.

"Did he give you an answer? Because I didn't hear him say anything" Cordelia said, as usual, what everybody was thinking.

"She's in Galway..." Willow looked thoroughly confused,

"Ireland? Where I was born" Angel joined the confusion, "that's halfway across the world."

"She's in Seventeen Fifty-Three", this time it was Wesley's turn to pale at the information. He looked at Angel who looked suitably worried.

"What's wrong, what's with the serious faces?" Willow asked, "I mean beyond Faith having disappeared into another century, miles away and okay yeah I understand the serious faces. But on the plus side it can't get much worse."

"The year you were turned," he stated to Angel, who nodded dumbly. Willow swallowed thickly.

"How about that, it just got worse." Willow's voice was sombre.

He didn't look at anyone else, just staring blankly, trying to remember.

"I've never been able to remember the year before I was turned. I remember the night I met Darla, I remember everything after I was turned. But before that, nothing, not what I was doing, where I was. I always thought it was just part of becoming a vampire. Or I'd been too drunk."

"I've never heard of something like that happening before and I've studied vampires extensively." Wesley replied, thoughtfully.

"I had a nasty feeling you were going to say that" Angel felt a strange sense of dread pooling within him. This whole situation was going to get worse before it got better, he could just sense it.

* * *

**1753**

* * *

Faith was sauntering down the dark street, all made up in her new dress which she had finally gotten on. Angel, no, Liam she reminded herself, had needed to tie the corset and had done so with a vigour that almost left her breathless. On the strange plus side, she noted in every reflective surface she passed that her waist had never looked so small. Nor her breasts so, well, there. It wasn't exactly practical attire though, and having looked at the dainty little shoes on offer in the shop, she'd instead stopped a few doors down and picked up some hefty leather boots. Liam had given her a strange look, but not said a word, and this time she'd tried the door first. The slayer learnt quickly.

"Your people really aren't too security savvy are they? Then again it's a small town I suppose."

"It's a city actually" Liam piped in, Faith raised her eyebrows and took another look around. All she could see was squat buildings, and mountains beyond.

"Really."

"Yes, have you not seen one before?"

"_Please_" she rolled her eyes "where I'm from makes this place barely look like a village."

"Where are you from?" He asked, it was quickly becoming a habit of his to ignore what he didn't understand instead of constantly questioning her. He wasn't a stranger to foreigners.

"Boston."

"The new world?"

"Yeah, I suppose is it pretty new these days."

"I've heard a lot of talk about it, families fleeing across the seas for a new start. It's fascinating. All that adventure." Faith paused and turned to look at him, really looking at him and felt slightly overwhelmed at the situation. This man would become Angelus, he'd see plenty, and here he was as a human, desperately bored and wishing on the future. Faith had never imagined Angel as a human, it just hadn't been anything worth thinking about. But here he was, normal and restless. And fun. Angel never would have let her break into shops and he certainly wouldn't have helped her.

"I'm sure you'll get over there one day."

"You think so?"

"I'd bet my life on it."

"I'll take that bet" a voice sneered from the shadows. Faith spun around, Liam looked at the girl, since the person who'd spoken was hiding in the darkness.

"This was a private conversation" Faith griped, "do you make a habit of lurking in the shadows? Eavesdropping. Because I think that's a definite sign that you need to get out more. Or in more. Or just something more, you know?" The person stepped out, their face was distorted in a way that made Liam step back from them a little. Faith recognised the face all too well, it looked like some things remained the same no matter the century. "Is this the part when I faint and scream? Because I'm not feeling it tonight. Sorry."

"Faye," Liam spoke warningly, but Faith put her hand up to quiet him, almost at that exact moment the vampire lunged towards Faith. The slayer flipped backwards onto her hands, using the backwards cartwheel to propel the vampire into the wall behind her. The thing hit the stones hard, dazed it climbed back to it's feet put Faith was already there. Having pulled a chair leg from beneath her skirts where she had strapped it to her leg, she plunged it into the vampire's heart and watched it turn to dust. Thanking her subconscious for being unable to let her be anywhere without a stake.

"I did wonder why you broke that chair" Liam spoke after a long silence, Faith realised then that this wasn't Angel, a habit she needed to get out of quickly. He was just a man, a man who could probably, very easily get himself killed. A man who likely knew nothing about vampires.

"Well, you know what they say about following strange women around in the middle of the night."

"No, but I'm beginning make me' own conclusions."

"There is a slayer here in Galway" the master growled, sending ripples of fear through the hoard of vampires surrounding him "we must leave immediately, it isn't safe here any longer." The vampire, contorted and aged beyond all recognition of his human self, looked around at his flock. His children. It had been a very long time since he'd felt the loss of one of his own, at least one that wasn't dealt by his own hands. Regarding each vampire individually, for a moment, his fingers domed in front of him and drummed together. It was unsettling, they had grown lax, lazy, and if a slayer had truly come to Ireland, then they were in no position to fight her.

There was a grunt of general approval throughout the group.

"There is a boat in the harbour, going to England, but it leaves at six in three mornings time." The voice was small, insignificant, but the words were sound.

"After sunrise, which means we'll need to be settled below deck by the time they leave. Ready yourselves, we shall move immediately. Brook no suspicions."

"Shall we take the crew and passengers?"

"No, leave them be. It may be a long voyage and we'll need something to eat."

The vampires made their moves pretty soon after the announcement, a lot were newborn and hadn't set foot outside of their homeland. They were excited, but there was one who wasn't, the Master walked over to her and hooked a finger underneath her chin.

"What's the matter Darla, are you not excited to return home, after so long?"

Yellow eyes looked up at him childishly,

"I can kill her Master, let me try."

"And risk losing my most beloved childe? No, I will not allow it."


	5. Shadows in the Dark

**Chapter 5: Shadow In The Night**

* * *

**Present Day**

"How many times do I have to say it? I can't remember." Angel was clearly irate, he understood Wesley's interest but everything he could say he'd already said. The memories just weren't _there_, it wasn't a matter of trying to trigger them, it was like a black hole in his life that made him feel somewhat nauseous to think on too much.

"When does Darla show up?" Willow asked, subtly changing tactics having deduced that they weren't going to get much out of Angel the other way. Except the other Vampire's annoyance. The redhead was sitting cross-legged on Angel's desk,a few books open around her and one huge one resting on her knees. Though it was getting little of her attention now.

"It was late in the year, I remember being a vampire for the turn of 1754, we celebrated in Dublin. It was" the vampire was looked wistful for a moment before shaking it off remembering the faces of his entire village, slaughtered "horrific actually. But it was all new and exciting." That was so easy to remember, the bodies, the blood, the massacre he could remember in vivid detail. They'd managed to procure some fireworks from a trader, who'd presumably brought them in from china, they'd lit one and stuck it in a man's mouth – just to see what would happen. The memory made Angel feel sick now.

"What about Christmas?" Wesley asked, trying to determine dates.

"I-"

"_I've brought you a present" Darla purred, as he awoke, she was stroking his hair gently, laying beside him on the soft bed. For a moment he was disorientated and wondered when she'd gotten dressed, he could feel the sunlight waning outside and the longing to ask her burnt within him. He wasn't allowed out while the sun was up, so why was she? How did she do it? She was teaching him but she was taking so long. "Hush" she said apparently reading his mind and pressing her plump lips against his forehead tenderly, the move made him want to rip her throat out, but he couldn't quite work out why. Abstaining from the sudden anger pulsing through him, he sat up, coarse linen sheets pooling low at his waist revealing his muscular, abnormally pale chest. _

_At the foot of the bed was a box, enormous, big enough that he could sit in it. With a wolfish grin he crawled towards the end of the bed, touching it to pull back the paper which hid the prize within. The box was quivering and the animal inside him forced it's way out in excitement._

"_Happy Christmas Angelus."_

"-was a vampire" he tried to shake off the memory "you know this trip down memory lane, is beginning to really get on my nerves. There's a watcher's diary for the time in my room, I made a point of collecting them after I got my soul. I'm not sure what I wanted to achieve from them, I couldn't even read them it was too-" Angel realised he was divulging too much when Willow looked up from her book with an arched eyebrow. "They're in a cupboard upstairs, they're a little singed around the edges but if anything big happened back then, the Watcher might have known."

Wesley nodded and left the office, he wasn't going to lie, he liked reading Watchers diaries and to get his hands on a volume that had been so long lost to the Watcher's Council was exciting.

When he was gone, it was Willow who softened first and watched Angel carefully.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He lied, fingers massaging his temples slowly.

"We'll get her back, you won't have to add Faith to your list."

"My list?"

"Yeah, your brood-list."

Angel smiled a little in spite of himself, how rare that a vampire could surround himself with humans who knew him so well. Even Willow who hadn't seen him in a long time, could cut straight to the heart of his greatest fear. That he could let Faith down again, after hopefully finally getting through after so many false starts, before his life had even really began was a horrible notion. When he didn't speak, she did, "is there anything I can do?"

"Save your strength Will, chances are, we'll need some heavy magic by the night's out."

"Yeah. I am Magic-Girl" she concurred tiredly.

"There isn't much" Wesley was back downstairs, Fred was following him carrying the remainder of the books. They were mostly blackened, though the leather covers had done a lot to protect the pages inside. "The slayer at that time was in North Korea, the language is actually somewhat-" nobody wanted to hear about his translation problems "from what I can see there's nothing mentioned during that year, his slayer had her hands full where she was. Though there is a mention of another watcher, not active" he scanned the pages, turned a few, "it's the year after, it's noted that there was a spell to summon aid, it's vague but I think he says, '_to summon a slayer_'. He attempts it to no avail, and, well, his slayer was killed shortly after."

"So you think somebody summoned Faith? That means it wasn't me? Right?"

"Right. I mean, I'm not sure. I don't like coincidences though, they're rarely what they seem. I'll need to find the diary, I think Giles has the ones from London at that time"

"To chronicle the Master for when Buffy fought him, I remember him studying them."

"London?"

"The Master fled to London" Angel's brow creased "it was too dangerous to stay in Ireland. I remember Darla telling me, I first met the Master in London because of that. Do you think-"

"That the sudden appearance of a fully-trained Slayer spooked him?" Willow finished his question and Wesley shrugged,

"It's possible."

"So that means that all of this happened before? Faith caused the Master to run. She's not changing history?"

"What we know of history and time travel is complicated" Wesley shook his head "it could be that it's just trying to right itself around her."

"Angel, we really need you to remember."

The Vampire sighed heavily.

"Meanwhile, I'll try and locate the Watcher who performed the spell, perhaps his diary will be of some use. If it's even survived."

* * *

**1753**

* * *

This was worlds of awkward, Faith's pride was already feeling a little wounded, her little run in with the vampire, however tame had proven that though she was much better, she wasn't entirely okay. She'd spent some time contemplating this, when she had last seen Angel it had been almost morning in LA. She had awoken at night, which meant at the very least she had been out cold for a whole day. The sleep had seemed to kick her healing into hyper drive. But she still wasn't back to her normal self. Liam had insisted (_after she almost collapsed_) that they go back to his place, at least until she could walk properly. Under duress she had agreed, and made it a decent amount of time before he'd actually had to help her walk the rest of the way. Faith chalked it down to the fact that when he said 'walk home' she hadn't been expecting the walk to be four damn miles.

Now she was standing inside, what she could only describe, as a very big house. It was miles from the city, surrounded by vast fields and green, steep Irish mountains at it's back, and a few other houses scattered around it. The biggest building around was a church. Even the roads were made of dirt. Liam's was by far the biggest house around. Faith was somewhat awed. She hadn't imagined that Angel had once been rich. To live like this? Walking inside, the hall was shadowed as there were only a few candles lit, and they were almost burnt out. She supposed everybody was supposed to be in bed, it was long after midnight already and she frowned at how much her injury had slowed them down. A broken hip, that was certainly going to damage her street-cred.

"This is a big house." She praised, Liam arched a brow and chuckled.

"It's me father's, all of it, the house, the money. I just spend it."

"You still live with your parents?" Faith asked incredulously, "and you're how old?" It was a decent lead in, this way she could be curious about him without letting him know it.

"Twenty-six" he admitted, "I suppose you're all independent and self-sufficient. Who do you live with then? Let me guess, a poor old husband who doesn't know what his beautiful wife gets up to at all hours?"

"I am _not_ married" Faith insisted, firmly, her face betrayed the absolute disgust at that opinion enough that she missed the obvious compliment, "I make my own way. Thank you very much. Listen is this going to be a whole meet the parents thing? Because parents really don't like me so I should just get gone-" Liam grabbed her hand as she made to spin away, his touch was hot, firm. Once again Faith was reminded that this wasn't Angel, outwardly she knew that, apparently her instincts hadn't caught up yet.

"They're away, you're perfectly safe." Liam was clearly amused, a woman who he had witnessed kill – whatever it was she had killed – afraid of meeting his parents. He had pulled her to him now and they were standing awfully close, Faith looked up at him, transfixed by his eyes. He looked so young, so full of life, so different and yet exactly the same. _This_ face had been preserved for centuries, flawless, though whereas before it had always been flawless, marble skin, there was a weathered tan on this man. And the subtle hint of freckles on his nose. She'd definitely tease him about them when she got back.

_If she got back._

The enraptured expression turned into a frown at that point, if he looked so like Angel now, it must mean that he was turned around this time. A man who had his entire existence stretched out in front of him, a brutal, bloody life, she was watching it's conception. Faith should have been sad. But she wasn't, it seemed almost voyeuristic to be here, to be in Angel's past.

It gave her goosebumps in a very inappropriate way.

Maybe she could stick around, slay Angelus before he even had a chance to – no, that would probably be the stupidest thing she could do. Besides if she killed Angelus now, what would become of her in the future? Briefly she wondered what Buffy would do, given the same opportunity. Would she kill the man she loved to save thousands of lives? Risk never meeting him. Risk her own life because he wouldn't be there to save her, her very own Knight in Shining armour? Actually, _yes_, probably. Faith was nowhere near that noble.

"What are you thinking?" Liam asked her, snapping her out of her thoughts, she realised she'd been staring at him for quite a while.

"I'm thinking" she placed both hands on his chest firmly, "that I hope you offer me a seat soon because I might actually fall down."

He chuckled, whatever mood there had been, or he was hoping for, was swiftly broken.

"I can do better than that, I can offer you a bed." Faith grinned and Liam, with barely a hesitation, lifted Faith up in a fireman's life and carried her upstairs, her protesting all the way.

* * *

**Present Day**

* * *

"There has to be something" Wesley mused, his patience was wearing thin, he'd been searching a reference to the diary he needed, something, _anything_, even a name would be helpful at this point. But though the spell was referenced in passing occasionally, the name of the caster was never committed to paper. Nor was he mentioned for any other purpose. It was as if he'd done nothing in his life except one spell, and nothing after, not even submitted the spell and results to the Watcher's council.

The few accounts he had read, surmised that it had worked, why then had this man not staked his claim to his legacy. Made it his own. Noted down how it had ended, had the Slayer gotten home? Had she died? Was there anything they could actually do?

"We have to get her back..." Willow urged him on, placing a hand on his arm in what she hoped was a soothing manner. Why was it that at times like this, she just wanted Giles. Giles and his cool head, his _we'll-figure-something-out_ attitude. She was trying her best to emulate it, but inside she felt like everything was swirling in a chaotic mess.

**1753**

* * *

It had taken barely any time for Faith to fall asleep, but Liam had nodded off first. The alcohol he'd consumed had obviously caught up with him, leaving Faith at least a few sleepy minutes to recount the day. It had been a long one. Neither of them had undressed, he dropped her down onto the large soft bed, and all but fallen on top of her. He'd been asleep before they finished laughing.

Too exhausted to worry about comfort, Faith listened to the sounds of Liam snoring for a while, kicked his leg when he tried to roll on top of her and laid her dominance over this side of the bed. It was oddly comforting, even if it wasn't Angel, she felt like he was the known. Which in a great ocean of unknown was a tether she wasn't prepared to let go of.

Faith would survive, she was a survivor, no matter where she landed, she landed on her feet. She clung to that knowledge, the faith in herself that she had cultivated over years of having nothing else.

It wasn't long before the slayer slept.

Whilst she did, she was being watched.

A blonde vampire stood on the balcony, watching in through the thin glass as two figures slept on the bed. The dark-haired girl, still wearing her dress, was this the slayer? The one everybody was so scared of? But she was just a little thing. A slim girl that looked no different from any of the others that roamed the city.

The man looked nothing of a threat either, mouth open, snoring loudly enough to wake the dead.

The vampire wasn't afraid, she knew well enough that everybody had their weaknesses.

Even the Slayer.

All she needed was time.

**And luckily, Darla had all the time in the world.**


	6. Looking for a Weakness

**Chapter 6: Looking For A Weakness**

* * *

**Present Day**

The room was dark, not the normal kind of dark either, the kind that heralds a complete absence of light. Life. Anything. It was unsettling, crushing and yet empty all at the same time. Angel spoke, but there was no sound. Both no sound and too much, like it didn't exist yet. Wasn't allowed to. The vampire walked forward and bumped into something hard, with a hiss of pain, he was almost going to touch it when the thing burst into flame, Angel jumped backwards, stumbling and landing on his ass.

Then there are eyes on him.

The flames are white, but instead of lighting up the room, it's like the room is being created by the light. Born.

'_This never gets any easier_' Angel noted silently to himself, trying to shake off the disorientation. "Thanks Lorne" he muttered as an afterthought before he stood, brushed his clothes down, making a point of taking his time. Then he looked at the figures before him, shimmering through another dimension, who hadn't taken their eyes off him. Friend's of Lorne's, supposedly.

"What is it?" one spoke,

"It's name is Angel" growled the vampire,

"The Champion has come?" a female voice hissed,

"But what does it want?" was the next question,

"It wants what has been sent away"

"Ah, well then it will be disappointed."

A long silence stretched between them, Angel was about to speak again when one of the oracles beat him to it.

"Leave now, there is nothing which can be done."

"I'm not leaving until I know where Faith is" his tone was insisted, even through the miasma of hypnoses the demons created. He had no idea what they were, or why they were buried so deeply beneath the city of Angel's.

"It makes demands."

"Tell me how I get her back" Angel pleaded angrilly.

"There is little to tell Champion" Angel stepped forwards but found himself flying back into the wall before he could say a word. He hissed in pain. The darkness itself was a wall, closing in around the flame.

"Must you do that?" Angel growled, standing up again,

"Send it away, it has no use here" the female whispered, the male regarded him coldly,

"The past can not be changed" he spoke cryptically, "you need her now, when she is needed then. Without then there is no now. Time is as it will be. And as it _always_ will be, it has been."

"Nothing can be done. She is gone" she female insisted impatiently.

"There must be a way to get her back" Angel yelled, the anger on the faces of the creatures was obvious even through the distorting shield.

"What will be, has been already" the female stated, she then clicked her fingers and Angel was falling once more. This time he landed in the main Lobby of his hotel.

"So, anything enlightening?" Lorne asked whilst offering his hand to help the vampire up, Angel just glowered.

"Did they tell you anything?" Willow asked more directly, clearly they'd all been waiting for him, Willow looked tired, she had been expending all of her energy to keep him there.

"I don't know what I expected, they said that we can't get her back. Basically. That she's part of history now. I don't care. We're getting her back. I'll find a way." Angel growled.

* * *

**1753**

* * *

Faith wasn't a heavy sleeper by any stretch of the imagination, so when she heard somebody move around in the room, her senses were at least paying attention even if she wasn't fully awake. Shifting in the bed, she felt a body next to her, Angel, _no Liam_, thoughts and memories came flooding back to her in those moments. But she was caught up in seconds as her brain screamed at her, if Liam was there, there was somebody else in the room.

The person bent down next to her bed and Faith grabbed the strangers arm before she'd even opened her eyes. The girl yelped in pain and Faith bent her arm a little as she sat up in bed, not an easy task in the dress she was wearing.

"Those are my boots" she exclaimed, that was what the girl had bent down for after all. "Do you make it a habit to sneak around stealing peoples things." Not that Faith hadn't stolen them herself less than twelve hours previously.

"Faye" Liam spoke groggily from the bed next to her, his voice was guttural, groggy "that's Aghna, servant." Though he made no move to apologise or prise the slayer from the servant. Or even expand his sentences before closing his eyes and rolling over. Faith duly noted that Liam did not endure hangovers well.

"I s-sorry" the girl stammered, clearly frightened, or merely in pain because Faith's grip hadn't relaxed any, then she proceeded to yammer on in a language Faith didn't understand. Was that Irish then? She'd not noticed what with everybody speaking English, how lucky she had been. If they hadn't – well, this would have all been more difficult.

"She says she was just going to clean them" came the muffled voice next to her, Faith let go of the girl with a shrug and a nod.

"Go on then. Don't let me stop you."

The girl waited for a long minute, looking unsure, until Faith gave her an impatient, questioning look. Then she grabbed the shoes and hurried off, the brunette frowned after her.

"Tis usually me father that terrorises the servants."

"Servants. Plural? You have more than one?"

"Aye. Sometimes."

Faith was impressed, she was also fully awake now and pleased to note that the painful aches in her leg and hip from the night before, had abated. She bent her leg gingerly, there was still remnants of soreness, but it was much better. This made Faith happy. Jumping off the bed, she stretched and caught sight of a mirror, twirling and teasing her fingers through her knotted hair she frowned a little. The dress was creased beyond anything, _ruined_.

"I hate sleeping in my clothes." She mused allowed, trying to fix the damage.

"I can't say I've ever woken up fully dressed with a girl in my bed before." Liam rolled onto his other side, watching her through half open eyes. "It's something of a disappointment."

"Oh that was your plan?" Faith watched him in the mirror, noting warmly that she was staring at Angel's reflection, "lure me back to your home and seduce the poor, lost maiden."

"If you're a maiden, I'll eat my hat."

"You don't have a hat."

"I'd buy one."

Faith smiled coyly.

"Nope, I can't fix this dress. It is beyond hope."

"We'll get you another."

"Well that's all well and good, but what will I wear until then."

"I'd not object if you wanted to wander around _without_ the dress for a while."

"Kind of you" Faith rolled her eyes "but the people around town may object."

"We're going out?"

"Of course we are. Come on. Out of bed."

Liam groaned loudly.

It didn't take long for Liam and Faith to find a dress that would fit her in his mother's room, perhaps a touch too tight as his mother was a slender waif of a thing, but Faith certainly didn't mind the way it pushed her breasts up. In fact, this prolonged game of dress-up was beginning to grow on her.

There was nothing to do with her hair, because naturally, straighteners hadn't been invented yet. The make-up was intimidating and she didn't recognise a single bit of it. Powder, which looked remarkably chalky. Lipstick that looked like coloured oil. She did steal some perfume though, all too aware she hadn't had a shower since yesterday.

Or brushed her teeth.

_Yuck_.

"Finally dressed?" Liam quipped as she met him downstairs, he was sitting at the table eating slop in a bowl. Which was probably porridge, but Faith had never been too fond of porridge. She thought drinks should be runny and food should be chewy, anything in-between was abhorrent.

"Don't even start. Give me jeans and a tshirt any day." Liam looked up quizzically but Faith waved off the curiosity, having forgotten where she was for a moment. He was taking another mouthful when she grinned wickedly, "I do like the not having to wear underwear though, very refreshing."

Liam almost choked on his food.

"You..." he looked at her "...you're not like other girls."

"I should hope not" she replied wickedly then with a playful wink she headed off to explore the house.

Liam found her a while later, fingers tracing along the spines of books in his father's office.

"If you're planning to make off with the silver, you're looking in the wrong place."

"If I was planning to make off with the silver" Faith turned to face him, "I'd enlist you to help me carry it first." Faith stepped back and slid up easily so that she was sitting on the intricately carved desk, her fingers tracing the grain idly.

"You think you could lure me into thievery?" Liam stepped towards her, so that he was almost touching her knees.

"I don't think you'd need much luring" Faith observed, quietly.

"Is that your true opinion of me? So impressionable and obedient?"

"My opinion is still forming." He was touching her knees know, leaning slightly against her, so that she had to look up to keep her eyes on him. This was the most bizarre circumstance, Faith was looking at Angel, except it wasn't Angel. He wasn't strong, or condescending, he didn't look at her like she was a lost lamb that needed a helping hand to find her way home. Liam was looking at her like he was enraptured, in a way nobody had ever looked at her before. Like she was the most exquisitely exciting thing to ever exist, and then she realised that to him so far, she possibly was. Out of place and out of time, somehow she'd stumbled across the one man who was equally as out of time, and place. Even if he was born here, he didn't belong. He belonged to danger, excitement, even then. And stuck here, human, he was unsatisfied.

They were alike.

Faith wet her lips, she'd managed to find some alcohol stored in the kitchen, much to the disgruntlement of the cook. But anything to rid her mouth of morning breath. Now she tasted of whiskey, and grapes since she'd stolen a handful of them too. Liam leaned in and she was almost sure he was going to kiss her, even if she wasn't entirely sure she was going to let him. Two worlds colliding didn't even begin to cover it and she didn't want anything to happen here that might make things difficult for her in the future. Still he was tall, handsome, athletic and warm. Also charming, it was a type of charm she'd never encountered before. Roguish. Dangerous. It was something she knew she shouldn't do, which of course made it infinitely more appealing.

"A little early to be at the whiskey already" he said reproachfully, Faith smiled impishly,

"Hair of the dog and all that."

Liam laughed, it was such a genuine sound, so strange to come out of this man.

"A girl after me own heart."

And just like that the spell was broken, Faith pushed herself off the table and Liam stepped back to let her.

"Well then, to town!"

"The taverns will all be closed even if we walk to the city, tis not even noon."

"You're telling me you'd let a closed door stop you getting what you want?" Her eyes were full of challenge, a challenge Liam accepted with enthusiasm.


	7. Bare Passion

**Chapter 7: Leather Underwear**

* * *

"You are incorrigible" a stern voice intoned, Faith merely arched an eyebrow,

"That's a very big word. Can you say it again without the slur?"

He pushed her, gently, playfully, but Faith wasn't in the mood to be goaded. Instead she was looking at the wall in front of her, smooth grey stonework, the problem was it was between her and what she wanted.

"It'll be open tomorrow, come on, let's go and find another pub."

"I don't want to find a pub" Faith said insistently, "besides, we've just gotten kicked out of every one of them in a ten mile radius. I think that's a good day's work. I want to see, what's in this museum."

"Why? It's nothing that's going anywhere."

"Because," Faith reasoned, "it's been the only door I've come across that's locked."

Taking a sip out of the bottle she was clutching tightly, she passed it to Liam and then with a smooth leap, vaulted onto the wall. It was only about seven foot high, hardly the stuff of Spiderman. Sitting atop it she fixed Liam with a disappointed look. "Of course if you're not up to it, I can go in, look around, meet up with you later. You can go and find some boring easily impressed girl in a bar somewhere-" whilst she was talking, Liam had used a cart for leverage and hopped up and over the wall landing in a low crouch. Faith grinned. "That's more like it." Then she slid off the wall and landed silently.

In truth, she was hoping that a museum would have more than art. All of the museums she had ever been to, took great delight in displaying old weapons. What Faith wanted, was some artillery. Just in case. It was a lot more difficult to come by in eighteenth century Ireland than one might expect. Apparently the last century of so of wars had really put the dampen on people being allowed to pack heat.

The door was locked, Liam tried it, but Faith came up behind him and broke it easily enough.

"You are one terrifying little thing, it's important that you know this." He sounded remarkably impressed and so Faith beamed, picking her way inside, carefully through the darkness.

"There are never lights when you want them" she complained, unable to see much of anything. It took a while for her eyes to adjust, and even then it was mostly shadows. Still, straining in the darkness she continued to look. The museum was just one large room, well that she could see, there was probably an office somewhere but that's not what she was interested in. It took a while but eventually she caught a glimmer of moonlight reflect off something. Moving too it, it was a broken sword. Glittering and shining but entirely ineffectual. "All this for a broken sword."

"If it was a sword you wanted, you should have said."

"You know where I can find a sword?"

"I know where you can find more than a sword."

"Where?"

"Oh, that information will cost ya."

He was teasing her now, he'd been teasing her all day and night really, it would be annoying if she wasn't enjoying it so much. Liam was the most fun she'd had in a very long time, refreshing, he wasn't afraid of her in the slightest.

"Is that so?" Faith was looking out of the window now, there were people passing and for the first time she realised that it was probably not her best move, to be breaking and entering. She was supposed to be trying, mending her ways, this was a clean slate and she was setting it up to look just like her old one. Faith didn't want to make all the same mistakes again. But what if she couldn't change? What if her spots were permanent?

Liam put his hand on her back and she pressed back against the touch, absently. His hand was almost bigger than her back as it splayed out against her, the corset sucked her waist into an almost impossible shape. Not that Faith didn't have a slim waist anyway, but she liked to think of herself as more '_average_'. There had never been any complaints. "What will it cost me, exactly?"

"Oh I don't know, I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement." Faith tipped her head back to look up at him, his hand slid from her back around to her stomach to pull her back against him. Could she do this? Should she do this? A part of her felt she should just pull away now, tell him that she was an escaped nun or something and nix this entire thing in the bud.

"Hello?" The voice made the pair start, they were shadowed in the darkness but not invisible. Clearly somebody had found the open door. "Show yourselves. You can't hide in there forever,"

"Uh-Oh. Busted." Faith sing-songed in a mock show of guilt. Liam stayed still and silent behind her. Then in a quick jab with her elbow, she broke the glass in the window behind them and hopped through, "now is not the time to be a slow coach" she instructed. The man followed her out and the two fled up the road. Faith ran until Liam stumbled over, panting, a hand on his chest. Then she skidded to a halt and caught her own breath. Her lungs were burning and her side ached with the familiar pain of a stitch. How Liam had managed to run this long and fast, she didn't know, but she was impressed. The lights of the city looked far away, their mostly up-hill run had let them at least a few miles from town.

Liam dropped onto the ground, on his back, sweating and panting. Faith walked over to him, leaning forward just enough to put her face in his view she grinned when he opened his eyes.

"Aw, did I go too fast?"

"Aye. I'm not ashamed to admit it. Rarely has a girl left me so exhausted."

"You were quiet."

"I knew that constable. He's a friend of me father's, he'd have known it was me. Probably already does."

"I think we're safe. Wait until CCTV comes along, then you'll have problems."

Faith risked a glance around, trying to work out where she was, but something grabbed her ankle and pulled her off balance. With her not being quite one hundred percent recovered, she hit the ground with an '_ouf_' and was about to go into full slayer mode when she noticed Liam laughing. Well, perhaps laughing was an understatement. She kicked him in the shoulder, which didn't stop him laughing but did at least extract an ouch. The floor was cold, though she gave in and lay down. It wasn't like Liam was going to be recovered enough to go far for a short while.

This was why she didn't like playing with humans. He walked like Angel, talked like Angel, but he was certainly lacking the stamina.

But then Liam was moving, crawling on top of her, pinning her down. Faith's eyes narrowed a little, especially in the face of his rapacious smirk. She didn't need to ask what he was doing, as she felt his warmth move up her body, him pressing her against the ground. She made a point to look up innocently.

"Now, about that bargain..." he began, Faith made to move her arms but he pinned them above her head. As much as she didn't want to admit it, her heart sped up a little. Looking down at her like that, all the predatory dominance in the world, it was easy to see the monster he would become. Adrenaline surged through her body. Faith had always had a bit of a weakness for bad boys. However, she had more of a weakness for showing off. The slayer waited until his lips were almost touching hers, he was dragging this out, before she used her legs to flip him backwards. Easily reversing their positions and pinning him down in a mirror of how he had her pinned. Sitting astride his waist, her ass resting cosily against his crotch, she could see what drove his more dangerous acts.

"You want to be in charge Liam?" She spoke softly voice low and dangerous, her lips mere millimetres from his, she could feel his breath. Taste the alcohol that was still lingering. "You have to earn it." And then with no further thought to consequences or the future, Faith did exactly what she wanted to do in that moment. She pressed her lips against his with an almost crushing force, letting go of his hands she was surprised when instead of pushing her off, he grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her right back with mirrored ferocity.

Darla watched their passion from the darkness, their furious kissing, their battle for dominance. The girl was fast, that had been demonstrated when Darla had followed them, she'd even lost the slayer for a little while having to track their scent closely. She'd found the slayer's pet human and followed him more closely, debating for a moment whether to pick him off, she hadn't had time as the slayer continued to slow her pace to keep close to him. Besides, it would have been far too easy.

They were just as oblivious now, Darla suspected that if she could catch the slayer in one of these moments she might well have an easier fight. Or better yet, no fight at all. She could return to her Master with the Slayer's head. The male was back on top now, Darla could probably snap his neck before the slayer reacted, so lost was she in passion. Then it would be a disorientated and sad slayer she faced; but that was not enough. There was no poetry in _just_ killing her. And Darla prided herself on poetry, on torment.

Instead the vampire walked away, leaving them to their fervid oblivion.

* * *

**Present Day**

* * *

Angel had been lost in thought for a while and even when Lorne finally broke him out of it, he was loathe to convey his feelings. Something was niggling at the back of his mind. Something awakening. He wasn't sure what it was, he couldn't place it and when he tried it vanished further, dancing at the edge of his consciousness, but it felt like every day that past he needed Faith back with an increasing insistently. Now it was no longer about saving her, it wasn't even about getting her to Buffy. He just _needed_ her back. He longed to see her. And he couldn't fathom why. Something was changing, shifting, growing.

"Something wrong?" Lorne asked

"Nothing new" he lied.

"Well if it's your mind that's got you down Angel-cakes, I'm more than happy to have a look. Even if I am not as enthusiastic about listening to you mutilate another Mannilow" the demon offered expectantly.

"What have I told you about the pastry nicknames?" Angel chastised, but shook off the offer, the thought of somebody else rooting through thoughts, memories and feelings he wasn't even sure he was having was definitely not appealing.

"Okay, but don't say I didn't offer."

"Maybe I just need to get out, go kill some things."

"I wouldn't recommend it just yet." Lorne intoned seriously.

"What, why?" Angel scowled,

"What with the sun being out and all."

Angel agreed sheepishly, he'd lost track of the day and nights lately. Somebody walked past the door and he caught their scent even though he hadn't seen them,

"_Willow_" his voice cracked slightly, desperately wanting some distraction before he gave in and started singing, "any news on the Faith front?"

"Nope" Willow stopped and then looked up. "Sorry." She sat down in the office though, next to Lorne, clearly taking the question as an invitation to join them. "What'cha doing? I just went to see Cordelia, almost got chased out by her guard Connor."

"Well I am reading and Angel is intermittently staring at the walls. I'm sorry it's not more interesting ginger-snap. Is she still holed up in her room?" Willow frowned at the nickname, but nodded. She certainly hadn't expected Cordelia Chase to be so absent.

"Willow, what spell did you use exactly?"

"For the door locks?"

"You read it."

"Wesley said you improvised a bit. Lets go through it again." Angel insisted, Willow tensed slightly and though she looked fed up she went through the spell again in the way of one who was indulging a child.

"I used the basics of a protection spell, and then altered it to fit in line with the one Wesley showed me. I added a few things of my own and made it stronger less restrictive, so that it had loopholes to allow specific demons access." Willow stopped trying to remember "I called upon the four elements. Curarea his verbes, a aditus recrissus est. Curarea his herbes, a aditus est" she recited, it was a speech she had all but memorised by now. "I'm really sorry I can't help more Angel, but that's it. There's no secret missing or ingredient I've forgotten. I've been over it in my head a hundred times."

"This isn't your fault Willow, it was probably that other spell anyway. I don't know what yours did but without the translation or knowing exactly what you said or who too..." Angel sighed then looked at the redhead, "I _need_ her back Willow." He didn't explain any further than that, he couldn't right then because he didn't understand it. Luckily the witch didn't ask.


	8. Breakfast & Time Differences

**Chapter 8: Breakfast &amp; Time Differences**

* * *

**1753**

* * *

The next morning, Faith awoke in Liam's bed, alone. It had been one of the best night's sleep she could remember having in a long time. However, thinking back to her more recent residence she was hardly surprised. Sitting up in the bed, she was slightly wary about seeing the veranda doors wide open. She pulled the blankets up slightly higher, surprising herself with her newly developed modesty. Her memories filtered back to last night. It had been fun, even though it ended as abruptly as it had began. The adrenaline and booze caught up with Liam and he'd spent a good few hours periodically emptying the contents of his stomach into the nearby brook.

And they said romance was dead.

Sitting up and letting the blankets fall to her waist, this time she hadn't made the mistake of sleeping in her dress. Feeling the cool breeze from the open balcony on her bare skin was refreshing and she couldn't help smile. For a magical mishap this one was turning out to be rather pleasant. Like a vacation. Faith was proud that she had managed to not let things escalate past kisses the night before. Faith had been the epitome of chivalry. She'd helped carry him home, dropped him unconscious on one of the very uncomfortable looking couches and the proceeded to claim his bed for herself.

And as far as she was concerned no boundaries had been crossed, the world wasn't going to end because her and Angel had shared a kiss and a grope back in the day.

Hopefully.

Finally managing to prise herself from the bed, she wandered over to the window to look at the day outside. The sun was already giving off plenty of heat and she stood in the window for a while, staring at the water in the distance.

Should she really be doing this?

It was a question that was never far from her mind, doing what she usually did, she shook it off and strayed out of the room in pursuit of a new dress. This mission was curtailed when she almost walked straight into a complete stranger.

He started for a moment, realised she was naked and quickly turned around. His arms were folded and Faith pressed her lips together in an attempt not to laugh at how utterly befuddled the man looked.

"Excuse me." He sounded pissed, it may have been a different time, a different country – but Faith could recognise that disapproving, annoyed tone anywhere.

"You must be Liam's dad! I'm Fai-y. Faye." She waited for a long moment. "You know just because I'm naked, you could still be polite."

"I shall wait down stairs. Good morning." And he walked off, rather quickly. Faith managed to wait until he had disappeared from sight before she snickered. Then walking into Liam's parents room unabashed, she helped herself to a dress. Taking her sweet time before she headed downstairs.

When she did eventually get down there, she found the family congregated around the dining room table, taking a piece of bread from the middle of the table she nodded her greeting. Liam had his head buried in his arms, he still reeked of alcohol and vomit, her nose scrunched up. She probably didn't smell much better.

"So is there a shower around here? A bath?" they looked at her in blank annoyance "something to use so that I don't smell like I've crawled out a brothel."

"Funny. I had imagined that was where he found you." A woman, Faith assumed it was Liam's mother, shot him a sharp glare for his comment. "What, I'm afraid when I come home to find a woman walking around my house like she owns it, wearing nothing more than what she was born in, there are only certain conclusions to be drawn. I hope he's paying you well." His eyes were nasty and cruel, Faith didn't need to be a good judge of character for that.

"He's not paying me at all. But he has a really big cock so I let it slide."

Liam's mother paled before poignantly clearing her throat.

His father dropped down his spoon on the table and slamming his fist down, Liam was watching her both amused and surprised at her gall.

"I will not have that kind of speak at my table, in front of my wife!" His voice was a growl, Faith rolled her eyes, grabbed another piece of bread and stood up.

"Fine. Liam, are you coming?"

Liam shrugged when his father glowered at him expectantly, instead the younger man simply stood up, picked up his cup of water and followed Faith out of the room. He knew he'd probably get Hell for that little display afterwards. But right now, the only thing he wanted to do was follow that woman into the unknown. She was fascinating. Vulgar. Untamed. And God how he wanted her more than anything else he had ever wanted in his entire life.

* * *

**Present**

* * *

Wesley stood, leaning against the door frame observing his boss with a careful eye. Angel was sitting back in his recliner but as usual for the last few days his brown eyes were closed and he was deep in thought, in memories. The watcher wasn't naïve enough to think he was sleeping, the vampire hadn't slept properly since this whole thing happened.

"Angel," Wesley spoke softly, not wanting to startle the vampire, though as Angel's posture hadn't changed he realised how absurd a notion that was. Sneaking up on a vampire. Of course, Angel had known he'd been there from the second he arrived. He could probably smell him. Heck, he could probably hear his heartbeat from a mile away.

"What's the matter Wesley?" he asked, his voice betraying his exhausted frustration.

"We've been doing a lot of research on time-travel, since there isn't much else we can do at this point" he informed the darker haired man, taking a seat opposite the vampire, a desk in-between the two. Angel noted the unconscious decision on Wesley's part to place distance but decided to let it go un-mentioned for now. "It turns out there might be more complications to this whole situation than we thought." At this, Angel's eyes opened but he said nothing. "Well, as far as the time is concerned anyway, which is the part we haven't really thought of." Angel raised an eyebrow but still didn't speak. "We're just, well" Wesley hesitated.

"Spit it out Wesley." Angel's patience was running thin and Wesley's obvious hesitation was starting to worry him.

"Time has a habit of passing differently. Between dimensions I mean. And, Faith, well," he swallowed "Faith would technically be in a past dimension, a shadow of this one. When time passes it fractions off, develops a life of it's own so to speak. So that every second is a _technically_ different dimension, we're linear creatures so each dimension passes into the next flawlessly, the past ones don't disappear, we're just propelled forward, never going back. Time is a cycle, constantly repeating. So in theory she's passed backwards into another dimension, still moving forward but on a different lane now. But obviously it's happening in a place in which we, well, when I say we I mean us as we are now, not actually me at all because I obviously wasn't born then but you indeed -"

"Wesley. If you have a point, make it" Angel cut off the rambling, he wasn't interested in the technicalities and the mechanics. He just wanted to hear the point of this.

"Well, in different dimensions, time is conceived differently. It displays differently. It passes differently. No two dimensions work on the same time-principle. Past are always chasing future. Linear but at different paces."

"So" the vampire sat up in the seat, a deep frown on his face. "You're saying that time could be passing more quickly were Faith is?"

"It's more than likely" Wesley took a breath for what seemed like the first time since he approached Angel.

"Or slowly?"

"In my experience it's less likely to be passing slower. Since past-dimensions nearly always pass at a quicker speed. Future dimensions pass slower."

"Well in actuality," Fred piped in, standing in the doorway were Wesley not long ago stood. "We're considered a past dimension to anybody in the future, so the rule still applies. We're playing catch up to them. If Faith was a hundred years in the future, she'd only have been gone hours."

"What are you two saying?"

"Basically, Angel, that although we're just a few days. It's quite possible Faith's already been gone longer. So-"

"So we need to work quicker!" Angel growled and slammed his fist down heavily on the desk. "Guys who knows what she's going through, she's lost, trapped and we're just wasting time whilst weeks are passing. I've been there, not knowing if I'd ever get home."

"You were in a Hell dimension, it's a little different."

"She's trapped Wes. She's alone. She has no money, no friends and no way out. I can't think of a better formula for-"

"Everything we've worked for to be undone."

"Exactly" Angel sighed. Wesley nodded.

"We'll figure something out. She'll be okay."

"And if she isn't, then she's doomed to live the life of a vagrant, with no papers, no anything, until she eventually dies before she's even born. If that's not a version of Hell, I don't know what is."

* * *

**1753**

* * *

The days passed in a blur, they had been avoiding the house as much as possible since Liam's parents got home. Not that it had stopped Faith sleeping there every night, nothing had happened, mainly because it was fast turning into weeks since Faith had last had a bath and in all honestly it wasn't a particularly nice feeling. Yes she'd washed with basins and followed the example set for her by the family, but all she really wanted was a scorching hot shower. Something to make her skin turn red and tingle. And so, though he chaffed against it desperately, she had managed to keep him at arms length so far.

No matter how difficult that was getting.

Things were looking up as well, she was finally allowed to join them at the table and it seemed that his father had reluctantly realised that she wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

"Do you have a last name, Faye?" She wasn't sure how the shrewish man managed to make everything sound like an interrogation. He had dark, beady eyes and a narrow face. His hair was slicked back, greying around the temples. Perhaps it felt like an interrogation because she never had actual answers. Knowing she couldn't give her actual last name, she tried to think of something that sounded Irish. Or not Irish since she didn't sound all that Irish herself.

So English.

And old.

She definitely couldn't use Gunn again.

_Could she?_

No. Certainly not. So English.

Ye olde English.

"Bennett." It was the first thing she thought of.

"Faye Bennett?"

Well if that didn't sound altogether too Pride &amp; Prejudice. She hoped to God this never came back to bite her in the ass. They'd gone through the formalities, Liam having told his father that he'd met her in town, Faith having, well, agreed. She wasn't took sure how to deal with the whole situation. Though she had explained to Liam that this was exactly why he should have his own place.

"I don't know any Bennett's", Thomas (_a name she insisted on calling his father, much to his chagrin as he kept trying to impress formalities upon her_) suspiciously.

"I'm not from around here."

"You are at least Catholic."

"No."

"You've brought a Protestant into my home?" Thomas shot angrily at his son, who looked indifferent to the fact.

"Actually no, I think religion is a big crock of bullshit. Don't get me wrong, believing is all well and good, but by and large it's just an excuse to be an asshole." Everybody was staring at her now and for the first time she felt a little like she'd over-stepped the mark, until Liam nodded slowly.

"You gotta' have faith."

"Yes you do" their eyes were locked on each other now, the tension between them had grown to entirely new heights this week and she wasn't sure how long she could hold of any more. Even if she wanted to. He haunted her every waking moment, and sleeping ones. Faith wanted him more than anything else in the world, everything was eclipsed by that need. Even the thought of getting home. Naturally he missed the subtle joke in her words, as he didn't know her as Faith yet. But it didn't change the look. Thomas coughed in an attempt to break the staring contest the younger couple seemed to be having.

"Oh father, I'm sure if you'd stumbled across a poor unfortunate, helpless" he smirked when he said helpless "young lass, you'd bring her home. For protection, naturally, until she found somewhere else to go."

"And you're actively looking for somewhere else I suppose?" the older man fixed his black eyes on Faith.

"Oh, of course." She didn't even try to sound genuine. Though it was technically true, well, except for the fact that she was waiting for somewhere else to find her.

"Faye, I'm awfully restless, would you like to go for a walk?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact I would."

"It is dark, you should not venture out at this hour."

"Don't worry Tom. I'll keep him safe." Faith blew his father a kiss as she followed Liam out of the room.

They were barely outside before he was on her, hands, mouth. Faith was pinned to the wall, one leg around his hip as he claimed her mouth. Desperately. Faith clung to him just as needily, touching him wherever she could. Pressing herself against him. Teeth, lips, skin, it was all she could think about. When his lips moved from hers, she gasped a little but they were quickly replanted. Moving down her jaw, throat, over to her neck. He grazed his teeth against her skin and Faith paused. Everything that he would become flooding back to her in the moments his teeth grazed against the scar he'd already left there.

How long ago had it been?

The days were all blurring into one.

His lips were on her breasts now, her dress pulled down at least one was freed, but Faith felt like somebody had thrown cold water over her. She tried to push him off, but he pushed harder. Faith, running on instinct brought her knee into his side, hard, winding him. Liam backed off and doubled over.

Faith sorted her dress out and tried to catch her breath.

"You should know that when a lady says no, it means no."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were pretending to be a lady now."

Faith left him out in the courtyard and stalked back to his room, making sure to lock the door.

What the Hell was she doing?

The next morning, Faith was roused by a light knock at the door. Looking to the window to gather some idea of the time she noted that the sky was only just lightening. Walking to the door, making sure to keep the blanket wrapped around herself lest she give Liam's father another fright, she was only half surprised to see Liam himself leaning against the door.

"You're drunk." She scowled.

"You're a tease."

She deserved that one, stepping aside to let him in, she closed the door behind him. Her temper, shame and horror at the whole situation had dissipated somewhat, it was just a strain trying to keep all avenues of her life in check. Everything had gotten so confusing. All she wanted was to do the right thing for once, and here she was, falling for a man that was going to turn into a monster.

Her brain froze, _falling for_?

Oh God she was in no end of trouble.

"What's the matter Faye. One minute you want me, the next you push me away. No amount of alcohol in the world would make me believe for a second that you're chaste. So is it me? Do you not want this?"

"Of course I want this."

"Then why do you keep pushing me away?" His voice was raised now, to very near shouting and for the first time Faith actually realised that he was a person. It might sound silly but it was easy to overlook with everything that was going on. This wasn't a ghost, or a dream, and this might be tricky for her but right now she'd spent weeks toying with a man who had no idea what was going on. A man who was trying so damn hard. Who had actual feelings which she was desperately ignoring. "Do you want me to leave you alone? Do you want me to beg? Do _you_ want to leave? Do you want money? Do you want me to propose first? Just tell me what you want. Because I'll do it. I'll do anything you want. I just want you."

Faith stared at him for long time, absorbing the truth of a desperate truth of a drunken, frustrated man. Liam, since she'd arrived had always been coy and open, she hadn't realised that whilst she had been struggling not to fall for him, fighting against it tooth and nail, he had been falling for her. He hadn't struck her as the falling in love type. A part of Faith had figured that he was just in it for the adventure and the potential sex.

"I want to go swimming."

"Swimming?"

"Yes."

"In _water_."

"Yes."

"I've never met a woman who can swim." Faith looked at him, with a superior look before he shrugged. "Fine. We'll swim. Later. First we'll sleep. You should rest. It's a long hike up the mountains."

The slayer smiled, he turned his back on her angrily. A part of Faith was desperately sad that he was done talking, that he had allowed her the change of subject so easily, that he hadn't pressed further. She was torn up that she hadn't said anything back. This was the moment, she could have told him...what exactly? Where she was from. Who he was. Who he would be. Everything she had done. What she was fighting so hard not to be. The words fought in her brain, trying to form a story that would make sense and explain everything without breaking the future. She was somewhat relieved when she heard his steady snoring next to her. Saved. No need for explanations now.

"I'm sure I'll manage" she sighed to herself, knowing that she probably wasn't going to be getting much sleep.

"This place is beautiful." Faith looked around. They'd been climbing for hours, but it was worth it. They weren't at the top of the mountain, only about half-way up, but there was a stretch of flat land and in the middle was the bluest lake Faith had ever seen. It looked like something out of a painting.

"It's a limestone lake, it's really cold." Liam warned.

"Are you kidding, it's boiling today." And he hadn't had to climb the mountain in a dress. The dresses were starting to get old now, Faith was longing for her closet at home. Faith was sticky, overheated and generally gross. Melting in a soup of her own sweat.

"It's too deep, it doesn't warm up. And the currents underneath are strong. It's dangerous."

"I laugh in the face of danger" Faith intoned, with mock severity.

"Is that so?"

"Well, actually, I'm generally in cahoots with the face of danger so it's usually a mutual laughter."

"You're very strange."

"And you love it." Faith hadn't thought about what she had said, so she quickly deflected a potential awkward situation by untying her dress and stepping out of it.

"What are you doing?"

"Like I'm going to be able to swim in that!" She grinned, then, completely naked, she ran the rest of the way to the water and leapt in. He was right, the water was freezing and it hit her like a thousand knives taking her breath away. She swam to the surface and gasped, trying to keep moving to stay warm, whilst acting as nonchalant as she could to pretend he wasn't right. "What, are you not coming in? The water is lovely."

"I can't swim."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Well get your clothes off. I am going to show you."

As the sun made it's way through the sky one thing had become apparent, Faith was not cut out to be a swimming instructor. Liam had almost drowned a couple of times, and it was by her slayer strength and sheer willpower that he hadn't. The man defied psychics. He sank. Every time. Like a stone.

"You are the _worst_ student." She mused, as they lay on the grassy bank drying off in the late afternoon sun. Faith's stomach was growling and she really wished they'd brought food. Rolling onto her side, she felt more refreshed and cleaner than she had in weeks. Especially now her extremities were starting to get their feeling back. Perhaps she could find a shallower, warmer place to cleanse closer to home.

Had she really just thought of Liam's house as home?

"I used to come here when I was younger. Bring my little sister when she was, well a good long time ago." Liam explained, "we never swam but she would run around. I'd get a few hours away from Father. It was pleasant enough."

"What changed?"

"I did. Started going out, it wasn't enough, coming here just made me want to go further away. Seeing the city down there, I came up here once and I almost didn't go back. It's so boring, the same people, the same jobs, the same stories. Every day is the same. Until-"

"Until?"

"You."

"I'm really not all that exciting." What happened when Liam realised that she was just a girl, not his ticket to adventure and endless excitement? She had chores too, responsibilities. Right now she should be helping to save the world, but instead of finding a way back she was frolicking her time away. Hardly the perfect epitome of a slayer.

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" Faith frowned a little,

"Think. You always do it. We're having fun, talking and then you go all distant and I lose you."

"You want me to stop thinking?"

"Yes. _No._ Well, not entirely. But stop convincing yourself out of this, let yourself go, you don't get a second chance to live your life. We're here now, both of us, won't you wonder one day when you're old and running out of days, why you didn't just let go?"

Faith ran that through her head for a moment.

_She_ might not be running out of days, but he certainly was. Maybe they were, even now she could be ripped away from this and back to Los Angeles at any moment. And what if she wasn't? What if her destiny was now to stay here? To watch Liam die and Angelus rise up in his place? The birth of a monster ripping apart the man she was falling so quickly in love with. How long did they have? How long before his hot, comforting touch turned to ice?

Faith couldn't do it. She couldn't be selfless. She wanted him, more than anything and if she was staying here then she would protect him. Come what may. There was no way Faith was letting Liam go.

She'd lay her life on the line to give him his.

Thoughts whirring in her head, thoughts of his mortality and hers weighing heavily, Faith did the only thing she could think of to slow the thoughts. Lunging forward her mouth met his eagerly. Liam's large hands pulled at her and she was on top of him, sitting astride his hips, bent over kissing him like her life depended on it. His hands were on her shoulders at first, unsure how far she was going to let this go. She was already naked, he'd put his trousers back on to regain some warmth. His skin was burning to touch, she was cold. As she continued to kiss him, pressing against him, he groaned as his arousal became more and more constrained by fabric and her body weight. His hands became braver too, one moved to her lower back, pulling her closer to him, the other moved lower. Breaking from her mouth, he raised his knees and used one of his hands to prop him straighter as Faith leant back using his legs for support. His kisses moved, followed her jaw and then down her neck slowly.

Faith let out a breathy moan and Liam swallowed thickly as he realised this was it, the point of no return. No daring to speak his mouth found one of her breasts, the other hand which wasn't being used to hold them up cupped the other. Liam's tongue swirled around one nipple, teeth nipping and pulling gently as his fingers teased at the other. Faith's eyes were on him, dark and filled with arousal. This was the furthest he'd ever been allowed to go. It was a little daunting, usually women simpered and played bashful, Faith's eyes never left him. He knew her well enough to know that not only was she waiting, she was judging him, waiting for the moment to seize control and take it.

He wasn't going to let her. With a growl, he lay her down next to him, following the motion which placed him perfectly between her legs. She wriggled slightly against the grass which was prickling her skin but he wasn't going to let discomfort distract her. Running his fingers down between her breasts, down her stomach, over her belly button he led them straight to between her legs. Pleased to feel how wet she was he pushed them lightly inside her before pulling them back and tasting them, holding her gaze strongly. As he tasted her on his fingers, she unconsciously wet her lips too, an act so lascivious that it reminded him of his own trapped arousal. Enjoying her taste he unfastened his trousers with one hand freeing himself. He didn't dare take the moment to remove them, it would be his luck that in that moment she'd flee.

Devoid of taste his fingers were back between her legs, tracing up and down her slit, getting her wetter, teasing. When she started wriggling against him, he had to take a calming breath to ensure that he didn't impale her right then. This couldn't be a simple rut in the grass. When her eyes fluttered closed he knew that he'd done it, made her finally let go. Only then did he let his thumb graze over her clit, fingers splaying out over her mons as his thumb massaged gently. A gasp escaped her lips and Liam pressed the head of his cock against her entrance. For a moment, when her eyes snapped open, he thought she would object. Instead he could see the insistent need in them, the desperation which was probably mirrored in his own eyes. In one fluid moment he pushed inside her, she bit her lip but didn't make a sound. He'd not expected her to be tight and for one dizzying minute he wondered if he'd been wrong and she had been a virgin. Liam wans't entirely sure whether he should move, and in all honest he was enjoying the wet heat around him.

"Oh for God's sake don't stop _now_." She snapped breathlessly and Liam grinned, wolfishly before he began moving inside her, slowly so he could keep up the rhythm he had massaging her clit. Liam watched her, with increasing rapture, as her breathing quickened and she began writhing against him, he felt her get wetter round about the time that she announced she was going to cum. His eyes widened slightly, no woman he'd been with had ever announced it so brazenly before. It was almost enough to make him lose the control he was determined to keep in the situation. Watching her orgasm would have possibly been the most erotic moment of his life, but then it was in direct competition with feeling it. She got wetter, almost like a gush around his cock, her back arched and she pressed against him his cock pressing insistently against her cervix. He didn't dare move, just kept massaging her clit as she gasped and moaned beneath him. He stopped when she twitched away, moving his hand and dropping forward, using them both as support either side of her head. Liam grinned wolfishly at the blissful expression on her face. If there was a way to preserve one moment, one feeling, one expression in the whole of his life, he wanted it to be this one. His thrusts had become gentle, waiting for her sensitivity to pass, and when her lips spread into a smirk he knew instinctively that him being in charge had come to an end. She closed the distance between their mouths, tongue finding his, teeth nipping at his lips. He felt her leg snake around his back and with a strength that left little doubt as to who was really in charge here reversed their positions easily.

Sitting astride him, she broke the kiss and straightened her back, moving on him expertly.

No, she was certainly not a virgin.

The way she moved was like nothing he'd ever felt before, it was his turn to lay against the round ground and lose himself in pleasure. She didn't stop, or slow, her pace quickening slowly, so slowly he barely noticed it until the moment he realised he was about to cum. He tried to tell her, to give her the same curtsey she had, but when he opened his eyes she was watching him predatory. Of course she already knew. With a grunt Liam came explosively, filling her up as she rode him, feeling his own seed hot and sticky around him, inside her. And she didn't stop, not through the whole orgasm. It was the most intense feeling he'd ever had. By the time she stopped, Liam wasn't even sure he'd be able to form words. Faye lifted off him and dropped heavily next to him, their hot, sated, sweat-slicked bodies pressed against each other.

It took a while for their breathing to return to normal and the couple lay there for a long time, silently basking in the after glow. It was Liam who first spoke, or rather, chuckled softly.

"What's so funny?"

"I never thought _you'd_ fall for _that_." He explained genuinely.

"For what?"

"The '_life is short'_ line, I mean sure on most girls it's a sure thing but" he propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her, "I just thought you'd hold out longer."

Faith stared at him and his arrogant smugness, for a very long minute. Then she punched him in the leg, before she stood up. Liam was a bastard.

"I'm going to clean up in the lake. Coming?"

"You go. I'll watch." Faith rolled her eyes, no matter the century men were all the same when it came right down to it. Stretching she was about to move when something caught her attention, she froze. There was one thing, in the daze of everything that she had forgotten to notice. One very glaring thing. It wasn't the way Liam looked in the afterglow. It wasn't the way the water lapped against the side of the lake in the breeze. It was more obvious than all those things. Something a slayer should never, _ever_ miss.

It was very, _very_ dark.

The sun had set and she hadn't paid attention.

She was in the middle of an open space, miles from anywhere, with the man who _would __become_ Angel but was not yet Angel.

He was very much human. And very much unaware of the dangers that lurked in the dark.

She had _no_ cross, _no_ stake and _no_ help.

She had completely forgotten all of the priorities a slayer should _never_ forget.

Quickly pulling on her dress she glanced to Liam who was watching her with interest,

"What-" he started to speak but Faith cut him off,

"We need to go back, right now." Her tone was firm, commanding, a tone which she hadn't used with him since the first night they met.

"You afraid of the dark lass?" Liam quipped as he stood, her sense or urgency pressing upon his at last.

"You have no idea." With that, Faith grabbed Liam's hand and the two took off at a running pace back into town. When he tried to slow, she pulled him on, all the way down the side of the mountain. For a human he had exceptionally high stamina, but Faith couldn't note that without it screaming at her how dangerous that would be in a monster.

**Darla watched as they ran, the Slayers perception was very easily dulled. She could have killed them both once again, brutally and easily. But something a lot more dangerous was forming in the blonde's mind, she didn't want to kill the Slayer, she wanted to destroy her. And it was becoming all to obvious what the little girl's biggest weakness was.**


	9. Conversations & Revelations

**Chapter 9: Conversations &amp; Revelations**

**Present**

* * *

This was pointless, but nobody in the room was prepared to tell Angel that. He was on a mission driven entirely by something none of them understood. Guilt? Redemption? And though they'd already looked at it from every angle he was still determined to drag it up over and over again until something changed. Something had changed in him, they could all see it, concern had given way to desperation, need and obsession. He was like a dog with a bone. At this point, although it was distressing, they were all beginning to accept what the vampire seemed unable to.

There was nothing they could do.

Faith was gone.

"Willow, what spell, exactly, did you merge the other with." Angel said, slowly through gritted teeth,

"We've already been through this..." She sighed exhaustedly, but the despair in his eyes softened her weariness and she conceded once more. "The four elements and 'curarea his herbes, a aditus recrissus est'" Willow repeated. She knew it by rote now, so many times she had reminded him, she was almost sure Angel knew it equally as well, so why he needed her to keep telling him she had no idea.

"The four elements?" Wesley asked, stepping into the foyer – he had been absent the last few days, looking through books sharing a mutual obsession with Angel, his also born of guilt but also responsibility, lost to libraries and long conversations with contacts scattered all over the world. "Because I think I've found proof that there are five." Wesley's noted the sceptical looks of everybody else in the room, he cleared his throat "I've been doing some digging, in the watcher's diaries, to locate our mystery spell. I've encountered a rather interesting chapter from the fourteen-hundreds, thirteen hundred and twenty to be precise."

"Go on" Angel urged, eager at the thought that finally, something new might be being brought to the front. Something might finally be changing.

"They're in my office, read them yourself, I was just off out to get another book. I think I might have a lead on our Irish seventeen-fifty-three diary." With that heavy dose of optimism, Wesley walked out, Willow and Angel watching after him as he went.

Finally able to let himself believe they might be getting somewhere, Angel wasted no time in making himself at home in Wesley's office. It didn't take long to find the diary, it was open on his desk. The watcher in question had suffered a rather depressing plight; he fell in love with his slayer before she had been called. They married and had a family assuming that by the age of twenty five she would not be called. Once she had, he had been imprisoned by the council for violating his oath of conduct. During his imprisonment and under the care of her new watcher, her children had been brutally attacked by vampires. Shaunde unable to help or protect them. Tracing the signature at the end of every entry; Michel de Shaunde, Angel couldn't help but feel bad for the young couple. He had known doomed love before. Ultimately their son had been turned into a vampire, the slayer died fighting him. Death at the hands of the only vampire she probably would never have been able to kill. There was another diary referenced, Angel assumed without reading the enclosed photocopies it that it was that of the replacement watcher.

"That's awful" was Willow's response as he recounted it to her.

"It gets worse, his youngest daughter, who was born after the attack whilst he was still held prisoner, became a slayer. He wasn't released until she was called, when she was thirteen" Angel paused to note the horror in Willow's eyes "he was the one who wrote the spell in order to save her, to bring another slayer forth in order to save Isabeau from her destiny. Having lost his wife and other children, he became quite unhinged. Lost trust in the Council, fell quite heavily into" Angel frowned heavily, "blood magic and dark arts. When his daughter died slaying, he began dabbling in necromancy. Took out three consecutive slayers before they finally stopped him."

"How to make a monster 1-0-1" Willow looked positively sickened, it served acutely to remind Angel that none of them were without empathy, or untouched by heartbreak. "Wait, so what're the chances that this watcher cast the spell at the exact same time that we did, only in a parallel time?" Willow asked, starting to get an idea, Angel was about to say he'd already thought of that when Fred interrupted..

"We talked about that and it wouldn't make sense, if that was the case then Faith would be in fourteenth century Brittany and Isabeau de Shaunde would be here, in her place." Fred watched the Penny drop, before continuing "which means somebody else cast the _same_ spell. Somebody undocumented, somebody who is currently in Galway, in 1753." Angel and Willow both looked to Fred then at each other. It certainly sounded plausible, she'd obviously been researching this extensively with Wesley.

"That makes sense" Willow agreed, Angel nodded. "But how are we going to find out who – _oh_, that's why Wesley has gone to get the diary of the Irish watcher!" She answered her own question excitedly "and more importantly, that means somebody from seventeen fifty three is here, in LA, lost and probably with no idea what's going on. How do we find them?"

Angel and Fred looked at her, Angel couldn't quite believe he'd overlooked that. Whilst Faith was lost in time, there was somebody in his town that needed saving. Somebody from the same place he was. The same time. Maybe he had even known them.

"Okay, so at least we know where the spell came from now. Though it's accounted here, his version didn't work. We need to figure out exactly what changed in order to make it a viable spell. Willow, think you could look over de Shaunde's spell?"

"I'm on it" she took the tome and headed off back to the comfy sofa's.

Angel was waging a personal battle with a headache, the dull fuzziness had escalated to a searing pressure behind his eyes. Intense pressure which felt like, given enough time, it might well explode. The vampire closed his eyes and rested his face in his hands, thumbs pressing against his eyes. It wasn't often he got headaches, but this one seemed to just be getting worse and worse.

_When he opened his eyes he was sitting in a dark room one he recognised instinctively even through the haze of centuries. His father's parlour. His home from so long ago. In his hands was a book, he scowled a little as he was sure he hadn't been reading. Squinting at the pages the words danced around, foggy, blurry, he was unable to make any of them out. Perhaps it was the light? The candles were flickering, nowhere near enough to properly light the room, it had been a very long time since he'd needed light to see. What was wrong? Giving up on the book Angel glanced around the room, drinking in the sights he'd once taken for granted. There was music playing, from the piano in the corner of the room, a soft melody, hypnotic. A song he had not heard in centuries, the melody easing the pain in his head wonderfully. Shifting his weight to get more comfortable he became aware of somebody next to him, a heat pressed close against him, an intimacy he hadn't allowed himself for a long time. Almost at the same time he felt fingers ghosting at the back of his neck, teasing beneath his hair, insistent, wanting attention. Inhaling sharply his stomach growled hungrily, his mother's cooking. Then there were lips on his neck and everything else was forgotten, his senses abandoned him, pooling collectively on the feel of hot plump lips on his skin. There was a hand in his hair, knotted now, holding him still, demanding as teeth scraped along his skin. Desire pulsed through his body but Angel couldn't move. Couldn't look. Couldn't do anything. Frustrated he growled, but now sound came out of his mouth. , pulling his focus, insistent and demanding. A hand moved over his lap, fumbling teasingly with his belt, fingers against the skin of his stomach. Dipping lower. He heard a grown that he recognised as his own. Suddenly he didn't care that he couldn't move, as long as she didn't stop. Her fingers let loose their grip on his hair, as her head dropped downwards to his lap. Angel almost moaned aloud when he realised what was happening. He watched as his hand cupped the back of the dark head of hair, relishing in the feel of soft brown ringlets. He wet his lips in anticipation and his breathing hitched – since when had he needed to breathe? That was a long forgotten sensation. Angel waited. And waited. And waited._

"Angel?" Willow yelled, snapping him out of his memory. "I think you should see this!" Angel felt unfocused being so quickly snapped from sleep, his mind torn between focusing on reality and trying to chase after the fast disappearing dream? No he couldn't have been dreaming, _remembering_. It was too vivid to have been anything else. He could still feel the hair beneath his fingers, the weight against his side. The desire, it was then Angel realised just how embarrassing this could get and shifted his weight so that he was sitting more towards his desk.

_Faith?_

His body had responded to the memory with an eager, almost desperate need. If he'd had breath, then his panting breathlessness may have given him away. Still, he knew whatever it was that required his attention was more important than his current miasma of thoughts be they dreams or memories. Trying to compose himself before he ventured out of the office and to the others was harder than he thought. He could still feel the touches on his skin, his fingers traced where the dream fingers had absently. It took about ten minutes for him to calm himself down enough to be able to stand up. When he did, he noted that some of the pressure in his head had eased off.

Wesley was back. How long had he been asleep?

Angel looked down at the book that Willow and Wesley were hunched over, utterly engrossed. Whatever Wesley had found, judging by the look on his face, was important. Angel reached down and picked it up, the awe that was in the was mimicked on his face now, but not for the same reasons. Reading the first page, where the owner had written their name in perfectly elegant calligraphy, his world narrowed down to those ancient pages. Flipping through idly he stopped when he saw a familiar date, he began to read aloud.

_**Watcher Thomas Cabhraigh**_

_**April 1753, Galway, Ireland**_

_Today I had a unwelcome shock. Upon me return from a meeting with the in London (which I will not document here as it will be noted in the Council official records, reference 23.66.77b). In brief I petitioned the council for use of the Slayer for a short period of time. Needless to say I was denied. However now on top of the vampire infestation I am sure grows beneath my feet I also have my sons deviancy to contend with. He has invited a girl into my home. I know not where he found her nor to whom she belongs, I have my suspicions based up her actions and manner but it would be far too vulgar to relay to paper. According one of my servants, she has been here for many nights already. To say I am shamed by my sons behaviour in my absence would be an understatement, as I am determinedly trying to relay to the council how stern and upholding a home I keep so that they would see the slayer would be in good care, my son is even now undermining it. Yet I struggle to blame him, it it merely yet another example of the lasciviousness that is seeping into our quiet village and those beyond. Evil is becoming a plague, leaving no family untouched. At first I was worried the girl he had brought was one of them, a vampire, corrupting him to feed on us all. To get to the girl I have sworn to protect. Alas I have seen her walk in the sun, I am not entirely convinced she isn't something else though._

_There is something different about her, which I am struggling to place. I am watching her carefully, though she seems intent on pulling my son away from my influence and is quick to retreat when I am present. She speaks with an accent I have never heard and uses words I have not placed in any language, though it seems to derive from an English root. I do not trust her and am frightful for my son. No vampire but certainly a demon of sorts, with witchery at her disposal judging by the hold she keeps upon my son. He is practically enthralled. Wicked, a Delilah sent to lure my son to his doom mayhap. I blame myself that I had not instilled within him a stronger constitution to resist. _

_I am wary to evict her, I suspect that she would not hesitate to drag my son with her back to wherever she came from and I feel I am responsible to keep him from such a fate._

"Where did you find this?" Angel asked, looking up to Willow, eyes distant, haunted "Wesley brought it back. He had been talking to Giles who's been researching more into Potentials and their history because of well, everything in Sunnydale. All Watchers, especially those in charge of potentials kept diaries just in case they were called. When they weren't, naturally, their diaries mostly disappeared, dismissed as unimportant. But Giles has been asking around, trying to learn more about them so suggested looking for some of them. When we said where Faith was, more importantly _when_, he remembered one that he'd tried to locate before Buffy fought the Master. Supposedly he was in Ireland at the time, he thought knowing what made him suddenly move might help. He didn't get a solid location on the diary until after she'd killed him and at that point" Willow trailed off, it hadn't been an easy time Giles or Buffy. Angel remembered all too well the emptiness the slayer's absence had caused. "Anyway it was in San Diego years ago, buried in an archive somewhere. So Wesley called them up and they still had it. Some luck, _huh_?"

"So this is _the_ diary, the one of the watcher that cast the spell?" Angel didn't seem as impressed by their genius' as Willow had hoped. In fact he looked paler than normal. She frowned a little,

"We're hoping so! Giles cross-referenced some other books and though there were a couple of other watcher's in Ireland at that time, but he wasn't able to find any of those. So this is the easiest, if he has to find the others, well, we have no idea where to start. Even this one is not very long, only the one book. But from what we've read already and what you just read, there certainly seems to be an evil presence. It's possible that whatever she was in his house was bad enough that he'd try anything to protect his family! I mean he certainly seems convinced that something powerful and evil was lurking just around the corner and if we-"

"He was right." Angel interrupted pensively, cutting off Willow mid-sentence.

"Well it does end very abruptly and we're assuming that means whatever it was...wait, how did _you_ know he was right,?"

"This diary" Angel spoke softly, tracing the faded ink with his fingers, "it was my father's."

* * *

**1753**

* * *

Thomas _Cabhraigh_ was sitting at his desk, his muscles tense and a scowl upon his face. It was dark and little impact was made by the flickering candles he had lit. It was not the first time he had been up when everybody else was sleeping, in fact Thomas rarely kept the same hours as anybody else. There was something peaceful about a time where he knew everybody else was sleeping, tucked up safely in their beds. And his large home, nestled away from the city, he liked to observe the silence. This felt safe, instead of being frightened of the isolation, he revelled in it. It gave him freedom to conduct his affairs without risk of being seen. Or at least it had been, of late the introduction of Faye had caused him to be on edge even during times this this where he should be focusing on his writing.

These were hard times to be a watcher, the people were superstitious, tense and ready to descend into hysteria at a moments notice. One wrong move and they'd be alienated, which for a noble gentleman, was not a thing he could afford. His business, and money, lay with the trust and friendships of those around him. Without that he'd be outcast, and without the power that came from the money – he'd be unable to protect his wayward son from destroying himself. Something which Liam seemed intent on.

Thomas had once hoped his son would outgrow his pointless rebellion, his restlessness. The hopeful prodigy was disappointing him. He had even held hopes of introducing the boy to the Council, having his son follow in his footsteps. Those were dreams which he'd long since given up on, choosing instead to focus on trying to keep him out of trouble at least. And so Thomas was alone in his calling, and he alone knew the dangers that lurked beneath them threateningly, he alone knew what price he had to give to protect everything in this house.

The diary was, at first, an obligation he chafed against, rarely having the time to sit down and write, especially since most of his life was mundane. He too had been restless during his youth. This last year though, there had been so much supernatural stirring that the diary had turned into a comfort. A friend. And more importantly a place for him to collect his thoughts.

Faith and Liam meandered through the farmland. Faith's sense had lost the edge of urgency some time ago and with the lights of the village flickering in the near distance she felt like they had time to spare. They were closer to safety now, not to mention surrounded by pickets holding up crude fences that she could easily snap. It was pleasant again, she could appreciate the silence, and the vast space they found themselves in. The absolute isolation. Faith had spent her whole life in cities, this was a novelty. One that in time she was sure she could grow to love.

The two weren't quite walking hand in hand, but they were close, the backs of their hands brushing with each step. Liam hadn't said a word since they'd stopped running and that was concerning her a little. He wasn't usually the quiet type. Faith had to quickly point out the irony to herself, she was concerned over a version of Angel brooding. Shaking off all thoughts of Angel, and in turn Angelus, she stopped suddenly.

"All right, what's with the silent treatment?"

Liam stopped a few paces after she did and turned to face her. Faith had to look up to meet his eyes. She watched the conflict in his eyes as he was deciding whether to tell her or whether to lie. Honestly, every single emotion the man felt was readable on his face. Faith wondered how long it took for that habit to be curbed. This time she was letting her thoughts wander to Angelus, mainly to curb the discomfort she suddenly felt wondering whether this was the part where he asked her to leave. Usually she was the one leaving, but he'd gotten what he'd wanted now, what he'd spent months chasing. It bothered her how much that thought hurt. Yes she would be alone, lost, forgotten in the past but she'd been alone her whole life. It shouldn't be making her stomach clench like she was about to be sick. Faith didn't know what she felt for Liam truth be told, everything was so complicated. But she knew she was certainly getting attached, that much she couldn't even lie to herself about.

"The reason you're so frightened of the dark, is it to do with the man you killed the night I met ye? The one that turned into dust." His face was still conflicted, worried, but only now could she sense the tension in his body language and the way he kept looking past her into the dark. Faith was both instantly relieved and ashamed in the same measure. She was dragging him into a world he wasn't ready for, he didn't understand, this was exciting and new but this was a man who had been ignorant his whole life and who now was watching a woman who was stronger than anything he'd ever known jump at shadows. He was supposed to be the gentleman. The strong one. Now the haze of desperate lust had lifted, the rest of his brain was trying to piece everything together.

"Yes." She said simply "lets get home and we'll talk about it." It didn't take long, ten more minutes of silence before they reached the front door of Thomas' house. Faith mad to open if but his hand stopped hers on the handle. Pulling it closer to him, turning her in the process so she was looking at him. He looked confused, but there was that excitement burning in the back of his eyes, that dangerous curiosity which made it all too easy for her to picture him being turned. He wanted to know everything.

"What was it?" Faith didn't answer his question noting he'd already made the jump to 'what' and not 'who' she dropped his gaze and pulled her hand free, "you used wood, through the heart" he noted, "was it a vampire?" Her eyes snapped up then, firm and hard, he looked proud of himself for working it out. In that moment her blood ran cold with fear, suddenly needing him to stay as far as possible from vampires.

"That's _my_ world. Not yours. Liam you can't get caught up in it. It's not exciting, it's dangerous, really, _really_ fucking dangerous. I don't have a choice, I was born into it. You aren't." Suddenly the brief notion she'd had earlier by the lake solidified in her mind, it turned from a thought to a solid promise to herself, she'd keep him safe, future be damned. It was then she also realised she'd stopped falling for him, she'd already hit the bottom with a hard and terrifying thud.

"I could help-"

"No. You could die. Will die. I'm stronger than you-"

"You're just a tiny little t'ing." Faith grabbed his arm then and moved, so that she had it twisted behind his back. Painfully, he yelled and he pulled but at every bit of strength or struggle he exerted she increased the pressure, she was almost afraid his arm would snap. But this was a lesson, she couldn't be lenient. Bringing Liam to his knees, he finally stopped fighting, though he didn't plead or beg for her to let go. She held him longer than she had to, as if she was holding onto his very humanity. Finally she let go and shoved him forward roughly so that he splayed onto the ground.

"It's _my_ fight. _My_ world. I won't let you die. And if I have to hurt you, to prove it, then I will. I don't need a knight in shining armour. I don't need help. What I need is to know that you're going to be alive when I'm done._"_

Faith went inside without waiting for a reply.

Faith didn't close the door to Liam's room, she assumed or hoped, he would be up soon enough once he had recovered his pride. The wooden stake she had claimed the first day, the broken chair leg, mocked her from the dresser. She needed to take this more seriously, every day since she had arrived, felt almost dream-like, _surreal_. But it wasn't, there were real dangers and her indifference could end up getting Liam killed, not to mention her. If she was going to stop him becoming a vampire, to keep him, then she needed to focus more on being a slayer.

Gone was the worry about getting home, she had no control over than and no idea if she ever would. If she didn't, then this was her life now and she was damned if she was going to live it without Liam. Faith wondered if anybody from her time was even missing her, or if they'd all gone about their lives slightly disappointed but none the worse off.

Dropping onto the bed and staring at the ceiling, she realised with a start just how much trouble she was in. Faith had never been in love before, typical that she would fall for a guy from the wrong century. Not to mention one that was destined to become the worst thing to come out of Europe since Shakespeare.

Was Angel remembering her now? Did Angel even exist anymore or had her resolve and her being here already altered everything so much? Were any of them still alive? Had she effectively ridden herself of any hope? Faith felt sick, the thoughts wouldn't stop, spinning through her head, scenario's she was inventing and dismissing as quickly as they had happened.

When she woke up, she sat bolt upright, she hadn't realised she'd been asleep. Liam still hadn't come back and she stretched, her limbs aching from remaining in the same position too long. Which was when she realised why she had woken, there was somebody watching her. Fixing her eyes on the balcony, she noted that she couldn't have been asleep for too long as it was still dark out.

"Who are you?"

"A friend," she blonde smiled coyly,

"A friend wouldn't be standing on the balcony" Faith quipped, standing up and walking slowly towards the door, "what's your name, 'friend'?"

"Darla" she spoke softly, smiling, had Faith known more about Angel's past warning bells would have sounded. The woman looked young, flawless skin and perfect blonde ringlets framing a round, girlish face. In truth, she was beautiful. Her voice was soft, innocent, unfortunately Faith had too much life experience to be fooled by mere appearances. Faith arched an eyebrow.

"Well _Darla_, I suggest you leave, before I make you. And I've had a really bad night, so I'm really hoping I have to make you."

"Afraid I'll put the moves on your lover?"

"As if. Besides if I'm right, I doubt you can get to him" Faith smirked, "not without an invitation anyways"

"And, who says I don't already have one?" Darla purred, her fingers pulling innocuously at one of the curls that rested against her breasts.

"If you had one already, I really doubt you'd be lurking around on balconies" this evoked a sweet smile from the blonde who tilted her head slightly,

"Are all slayers this smart?" Faith tensed at the vampires words, "oh that's right, word travels fast" Darla's voice flowed like honey, "I'm not afraid of a little girl."

"Well, let's see if I can change that" Faith challenged grabbing the stake off the balcony and charging at the vampire with a run. Everything else might be a swirling pool of questions and confusion but this was what Faith knew. This was her job. This was her passion. Darla's beautiful face contorted as the demon inside her pushed itself to the surface threateningly.

"Let's" she growled as Faith connected with her, the two falling backwards off the balcony into the court-yard below. Darla was up faster than Faith, by mere seconds and that gave her time to deal the first blow, a ruthlessly hard kick to the slayers face sending her sprawling backwards.

The vampire wasn't over-zealous though and after the kick connected she backed off somewhat, cautious, Darla noted the flex in the muscles of the other girls body as she jumped to her feet. Small but strong. Now they were looking eye to eye. Darla growled when she deduced that the slayer was being cautious too, except when she moved to deliver a hard uppercut to Faith's jaw the slayer caught her arm and twisted, hard. Darla heard the sharp crack, but she fought to ignore it, pain was just a feeling and she could focus on it later. It didn't take too long for broken bones to heal. Unfortunately Faith was quicker than Darla anticipated and the slayer followed the break with a punch to the face and a kick to the knee, shattering Darla's kneecap painfully.

Foregoing dignity Darla did a quick backwards role, the arm was easier to ignore than the knee as it affected her balance. Still she was on her feet a few paces away from the slayer. Nursing a broken arm and a bleeding face she motioned to the shadows and two men stepped out. She had got what she needed to, Faith was strong. Stronger even than her. But relied on that strength and her reflexes heavily, there were not tactics or teachings. She doubted the slayer would have the foresight to plan a fight, or to endure for very long whilst keeping the lead.

Still, Darla wasn't prepared to risk testing that theory tonight.

The men circled Faith, who was watching them warily.

_'Not men'_ she corrected her thinking, _'vampires'_.

Faith leapt into the air as the vampires both lunged at her, one grabbed her leg and brought her painfully back down to the ground. Luckily, she still had hold of the stake and even with the abrupt and awkward landing she wasn't too worried. Whilst she leapt up, she heard the tear as the other vampire made a grab for her but got her skirts. Dresses were certainly not slayer-friendly. The second time the vampire was on the money and grabbed the slayers other leg. She managed a slight kick, whilst trying not to sacrifice her balance as the other vampire was advancing on her, it wasn't very powerful but it was enough to free her leg of his grip and she managed to keep her balance long enough to use her other leg to kick the other vampire in the chest, sending him stumbling back.

Punching backwards, she heard his nose break but before he had time to note the pain Faith had plunged the stake into his heart. With a cloud of dust he was gone and Faith turned quickly enough to see the look of fear pass over the other vampire's face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you think that slayers were just something your mummy told you about to keep you from wandering too far from your coffin?"

The expression was replaced with anger and he lunged at her again, reacting to the jibe as she'd wanted him to, predictable in any century. A fist connected with Faith's mouth, _concentrate Faith_, and she tasted blood, spitting it out onto the stones in a rather unladylike fashion, Faith lunged at the vampire, pinning him to the ground and staking him easily.

Obviously, these vampires were not used to a fight. They were nothing like the vampires from her time.

"Geez" Faith said, "Even vampires are different around here" but as she scanned the scene she realised she was talking to herself as the blonde vampire that called herself Darla, was long gone. Cursing for falling for the distraction technique Faith was left alone with her terror that vampires had surrounded the house and that she'd left Liam outside alone earlier.

Was this it? Had she lost him?

"What on Earth is all this noise" the door opened and Faith's eyes snapped to Liam's father who was standing in the doorway, eyes wide. Faith swallowed thickly and wiped the blood off her lip with the back of her hand, realising she was still holding a stake. Her dress, or rather his wife's dress, was torn and hanging off revealing bare legs up to her mid thigh. There was a gash on her arm from where she had fallen. All in all, she looked a mess. Unfortunately she didn't care about any of that right at that second in time. Her world was reeling and terror formed in her stomach with a force that made her feel like she might vomit.

"Where's Liam?" Her tone was more desperate than it should have been.

"Excuse me, I think that-" Faith pinned him to the heavy door,

"I don't have the time, or the patience to play tonight. Where is Liam? Have you seen him."

"He's asleep in the day room." Thomas managed to retain his disdainful authoritative tone even whilst he was pinned, scarcely able to breath. The immediate danger out of the way, Faith felt a little ashamed and let him go. Stepping back.

"I – I'...is it worth saying sorry at this point?" Well that was that, she doubted she'd be allowed back in the house now. Expecting the worst, Faith stood there and waited for the usual lectures she'd heard time and time again. Would she never learn to curb her impulses? At least she hadn't hurt him, her already heavy conscience could find some solace there. But that didn't help her right now, she'd be shunned from Liam's life, forced to leave, and how could she protect him then?

**"Go and get yourself together, rest. I will send Aghna up with some alcohol for that wound on your lip. And then tomorrow you and I need to talk."**


	10. A Little Piece of History

**Chapter 10: A Little Piece of History**

* * *

**1753**

Get some sleep, that was easier said than done. The fight was long over but the adrenaline still flooded her veins. Apprehension over Thomas wasn't making things easier, and fear over Liam and everything she couldn't control. Faith had a whole new empathy for why Buffy was so tense, to love and have to protect those you loved meant that you could never really turn off. She'd been lured into a trap, against her will, and the only way out she could think of was to lock Liam in a closet and never let him out.

He probably wouldn't like that very much, but at least she'd be able to sleep.

Faith had never cared before, not like this, this was new and it was horrible. This was why she was standing on the balcony and had been for hours. She'd watched the sun rise, the land wake up and now she was staring off into the distance. Across the ocean was her world, only not her world, even if she got there she wouldn't belong. If she ran would these feelings stop? Faith felt like she was suffocating.

"This is fucking crazy" she ran her hands through her hair, resting her head back against the wall.

"Is it now?" the voice was coy, Faith didn't speak at first. Or move. If Liam's pride had healed enough to come to her, she assumed they were okay, she couldn't let him see the fear that still lingered from last night. For one horrifying minute she thought she'd lost him – and once she did she'd never get _him_ back.

"Morning."

"Tis indeed" he walked too her, looking out at the view, touching her arm he frowned, "you're as cold as ice. Have you been here all night?" She turned to look at him, "and your lip?" Faith gave him a dangerous look and he drew his lips into a tight line. Even if he didn't like it, he stopped pushing the subject and instead drew her against him. His heat a welcome thing, in truth she hadn't realised how cold she was until she'd felt him. Now it was all she could think about.

"Let's go find food" Faith said after a long minute, the only way of getting inside without admitting that he was right and she was freezing.

"You'll need to change" Liam noted the state of her dress, but this time didn't question it.

"Fuck it" Faith shrugged, grabbing the bottom she completed the tear, ridding the dress of the useless excess fabric. Now she stood in what was effectively a corset and a mini-skirt of silk, with bits of stiff lace petticoat sticking out underneath it. This wasn't fun any more. If Liam disapproved, he didn't say anything and followed her downstairs.

* * *

**Present**

* * *

"Your fathers? " If he'd wanted their attention, he'd gotten in, everybody was staring at him. Waiting.

He nodded. There was that headache again, the dull pressure that would mount and mount, except now he recognised it. It was memories, long forgotten memories pushing their way out, fighting for survival, overruling whatever it was that had eclipsed them. Fighting against thoughts of the here and now, trying to reclaim him. He shook them off and tried to focus, he didn't have time to dwell on them, he needed to get Faith back. All the while he had been scanning the book, trying to associate the written words with the man he'd known so long ago.

This was history to them. This had been his life. The man who had _given_ him life.

"Wes" it was quiet but the other man caught it, he ignored the original question, "read this" he indicated to an earlier entry that the last and then handed the book to Wesley. Glad to relinquish it, there were so many things going through his mind right now he couldn't process the full implications of anything fully right now. Later when Faith was safe and this was in the past, he'd find time to dwell. Right now he was on autopilot, functional but elsewhere in his brain.

_**Watcher Thomas Cabhraigh**_

_**March 1753, Galway, Ireland**_

_I've found a spell that might be the answer to all my prayers , I'll not name the person who pointed me in the direction of the spell and I will not ask the council's permission. This is too delicate and I cannot risk them saying no. The copies of an old diary which have found their way into my possession are dangerous, that I already know. The originals burnt by the council centuries ago. I am still in the process of translating them, I am wonderfully optimistic. Please understand that I have no choice, the council will not even accept my request for a petition a month from now, so I must take matters into my own hands. I will make this work, I will do anything I need to do to protect my family. My home. There is a great evil here and I must address it, it's my duty._

_De Shaunde speaks of many things, curious enough it the mention of a fifth element, at first I dismissed it as madness, but upon further research I think perhaps it could be true. He attributed it to love, woeful romantic that he was, but how can you recreate such a thing? Earth, water, air, fire; these are all things that exist. Tangible. He failed and I think that was his mistake. I have channelled my research and I believe I have found it._

_Aether._

_There are contradictory accounts of this, but the most concise I can assume is it is that which is not of our world. The stars. There is a rock in the museum in town, one that supposedly fell from the Gods. If this is a piece of star, perhaps it is potent enough that I can use it._

"See there _are_ five elements, whether science agrees and apparently this spell relies on the extra one." Wesley observed, smugly.

"It needed something out of time" Willow realised, "stars exist hundreds of years separate from the images of them we see. Astroids and comments travel beyond distances and times we can even comprehend. Endlessly, agelessly until collision. We are seeing echoes of the past, if he believed that it was from a separate time then it was probably enough. These spells often rely more on belief and perception than tangible things. We require ritual, ingredients to focus our perception, to help us believe and focus on what we want to come to past. We channel magic, even though it exists in a source irrelevant to our customs. When I, _well_, did the evil thing, I ignored ritual, I just felt the magic. It happened because I needed it to. Not because I did everything correctly. This is probably the same."

"So _Cabhraigh believed whereas de Shaunde didn't?"_

_"__Maybe. Or Cabhraigh was more sure of himself."_

_"__If there was one thing my father didn't lack, it was arrogance." Angel piped in, having been listening to all the speculation silently._

"He was desperate enough to try anything, to find a forbidden spell with notably poor results and perform it. He didn't know what would happen – whether it would help or hinder. I'd say that's the kind of determination that can pull through mistranslations. Look" Willow pointed to another section,

_I don't know what is happening here, there are more vampires than usual. I took a stroll down to the abandoned church in the valley the morning previous, it was boarded up but through a crack I could see eyes. Yellow and dangerous. They are there, but they do not move, people are dying and the vampires do not show themselves. Something is happening. They have nested together inside that church. No matter of the time of day they are awake, guarding, sleepless. They protect something within that church, something monstrous, I can feel it. And they protect it with a ferocity I have never known before. I have no doubt that if I step too close, they would come out, burn in the day to cease my progress and kill me. I have not the courage to move closer, to call their bluff. But the spell did not work and so I shall have to, I shall return during the day and burn that desecrated house of Hell to the ground. There is much to plan. I must do so carefully so as not to arouse the suspicion of the evil which lurks until my roof, if she is a part of it, then I cannot risk her warning them..._

"And the entry ends, he hasn't even signed his name" Wesley stopped abruptly, looking to the next entry and then next to them. "Next he moves on to discuss other things. Unrelated. I wonder what would break his train of thought. The beginning of the next word is half formed but-"

"He was interrupted" Angel said, that agonising pressure back with a vengeance. He knew what the pain was now, memories that were never meant to resurface, suppressed so far down in his brain that they were practically having to dig their way out. Suddenly he didn't care if they ripped his mind apart, he just wanted the pain gone. Thoughts were in his head, like alien things, not belonging to him, ghosts playing out scenes like an old radio. There was no imagery this time, just sounds, smell and taste. Whiskey on his breath, so strong he could actually still taste it. A squeal and then a laugh. It was a dangerous laugh, sly and cunning. Then there were whispers, obscene promises. Things which made his heart race. He recognised the voice, somewhere deep in his mind. The voices stopped, replaced instead with wet slurping sounds. And groans. Were they his? Then a voice cut through it all, angry and disgusted. It was met with more laughter. And then his head was his own again and he stared blankly at the others.

"Are you okay?"

"I-" but Angel didn't know what to say, instead he stood and fled the room without a work. Desperately needing the cool air of outside and the blissful silence. He didn't want to explain himself. And whilst his mind was replaying obscene voice-overs, he certainly didn't want to be around anybody. It wouldn't last long, the sun would be coming up soon, but he would leave it to the very last minute before he retreated to his room.

Willow shot an embarrassed look to Wesley, there were _some_ things that were hard to miss.

"I think maybe we should finish looking through this on our own."

"Agreed."

Together they continued leafing through the text, but it was a hard read and Willow eventually excused herself and headed up to the room she'd began to think of as hers. It was nice to think they might finally be getting somewhere, it meant that soon she could return home to where she was needed. Willow missed her friends. In here though, she felt safe, cocooned, the idea of all these empty rooms made her nervous. The small bed was almost entirely lost beneath a sea of books and scraps of paper with her neat and concise handwriting.

"There has to be a way" she muttered to herself, completely at a loss at how they could have so easily lost somebody to another dimension. These things weren't easy, magic _couldn't_ happen accidentally. There was no doubt in her mind that Faith disappearing had been her doing as much as Angel's father, she had been so focusing on worrying about Faith vanishing. Her eyes fell on the Eryishion spell as it had before, but as much as her head was telling her to try something, her common sense was already telling her already that, _that_ _wouldn't_ _work_.

Not for the first time she found herself wishing Tara was here with her, to tell her what to do. There was a pang in her heart, soon she was lost in her thoughts and gently, as the first rays of dawn were streaming through the moth-eaten curtains making the dust dance in the light, Willow fell into a light sleep. It had been a very long few days.

**1753**

"I believe that I have drawn some very ill conclusions about you Miss Bennett" Thomas announced from his desk, leaning back somewhat, hands domed in front of his face, Faith searched his face for the resemblance to his son. Strangely there was little likeness in Liam, but the mannerisms were so close to Angel it was uncanny.

"No, really? I thought we were getting along great." Faith was still eyeing the situation suspiciously from the door, Liam had gone to wash after breakfast and she had sceptically taken the spare time to come and see exactly what Thomas wanted to talk about. "Why don't we skip to the part where you just ask me to leave? Are there going to be threats? I'll warn you I've been threatened by the best, you've got some big shoes to fill."

"Would you sit down please?" He asked, indulgently, as if she hadn't spoke at all. Faith frowned, stayed still for a long minute and then perched on the edge of the seat in front of his desk. A part of her, one she passionately did not like, felt like she was back at school. "Faye, may I call you Faye?" Faith nodded slowly, still frowning through narrowed eyes, "I suspect that you are not like other girls. When you first arrived I thought perhaps you were a vampire." His casual use of the word dropped into the conversation was a test, but Faith failed to react or respond still waiting for whatever came next, it was answer enough for Thomas, couple with last night his excitement rose, this young woman was more than experienced with creatures of the night. Unable to let himself believe too quickly and get ahead of himself, Thomas took a breath. "I am a part of an order who's purpose it is to-"

"Oh God" Faith stood up and shook her head "you're a Watcher."

"I am."

"Well I don't have a very good track record with Watchers. Two are dead, one is alive, I mean I tortured him a little bit, but-"

"Faye" Thomas interrupted quickly, eyes more than a little widened now, of all the slayers he might have gotten he got a psychotic one. But one who seemed to have an invested fondness for his son and beggars could not be choosers. "Before I take in the full implications of harbouring a murderer in my home, I would like to confess that I am the one who summoned you here."

"You're the reason I'm here" she repeated dumbly, then very real fear passed over her face "you're going to send me back aren't you?"

"Do you not want to leave?"

"I-" Faith looked panicked. Her conflict was more than obvious.

"We can discuss that later" he intoned wisely, enjoying the sudden realisation that he had leverage here, he had control over a slayer, a powerful, experienced slayer. "For now I'd like you to tell me where you're from, when you're from and then I will tell you about the reason I summoned you."

**Present**

In the office Wesley was still reading the diaries of Angel's father, confounded and entranced by the accounts written there. How could the father of the Scourge of Europe have been a Watcher? Had anybody else made the connection? Was he the first? He was reading the first hand account of the man that came before Angelus from the perspective of somebody close to him. He couldn't tear his eyes aware from the pages. Eventually though the inevitable happened and his heavy eyes started missing words, giving up, he headed upstairs to surrender to sleep.

There was a hush around the hotel as it's inhabitants slept away the morning in still, dreamless sleeps. Only one was tossing and turning waging an internal war against memories his brain trying to remember things that were long lost, dancing on the brink of his consciousness, distorted by dreams.

He woke, damp with sweat and prolonged his shower, trying to extend the time before he would have to see anybody. Whatever was happening inside his head was disorientating him, for so long he'd known how to control his emotions, his guilt, urges the monster within him longed for, but with this new presence inside his head, everything else seemed exaggerated. _Confused_. For the first time in decades he longed for blood, hot fresh human blood, wanted it badly enough that his stomach rejected the thought of everything else. The memories of his horrific past danced with those newly awakened feelings from a time when he was human. A time he'd hoped to forget. He could remember being alive, remember feeling his heart hammer in his chest with an intensity that made him feel like it was only yesterday. Angel felt _new_, he longed for the life that was long gone with the same intensity of a newborn risen from his grave. A feeling he had skipped entirely when he had been created. Then he'd longed for oblivion and been granted it. Though by who and to what purpose he didn't know.

Swallowing thickly he finally made his way downstairs, just after the sun had set, Lorne was the only person there and he was sitting on the threadbare couch, his long legs crossed demurely, whilst he plucked one of the neat triangular cut sandwiches in front of him.

"Help yourself" he offered generously, Angel's lip curled in disgust and he shook his head.

"I need some air" he sighed Lorne offered a sympathetic smile, you didn't need to be empathic to feel the turmoil coming from the vampire. Angel walked out the front door and almost breathed a sigh of relief as the cooling air swept over him relieving some of his pent-up tension. He was walking around aimlessly for longer than he intended, the air was blissfully chilled. Unnatural for this time of the year in LA, but the vampire was too distracted to question it. Not long ago it had been rains of fire and eternal night, this seemed at least, less apocalytic. A shrill scream broke his haze, it sounded close. It didn't take long to locate the source, a good old fashion vampire attack. Finally something he didn't have to think about. Looking the vampire up and down he frowned for a minute, the surfer come punk rock come hipster combination was certainly...unusual. And this from a man who had Spike for a grandchilde.

_'In my day'_ he thought wistfully '_you picked one style and stuck to it_'.

"Hey" he called out, casually, getting the other vampires attention, unfortunately for the poor guy he already had Angel's fist in his face before he even registered what was going on. He growled in retaliation. They traded blows for a few minutes, but all of Angel's pent up frustration and aggression finally had an outlet and the other vampire took a brutal pummelling. "Get out of here" he ordered the girl who was just standing there, entranced watching them and Angel wondered how humans had survived this long. There was absolutely no survival instinct these days. It had been bred out of them and lazy complacency was all that remained. The girl hesitated for a long moment and then ran.

"You obviously don't know who I am right?" the other vampire growled cockily, face bloodied and swollen, Angel gave him credit, it took a lot to summon that kind of confidence whilst you were being used as a punching bag.

"Are you the vampire with a soul?" Angel asked, feigning shock and awe,

"No..." the vampire frowned, looking a little confused.

"_Right._ That'd be me" with that Angel landed a stake in a heart. He looked at the punk-rock-surfer-boy pile of dust and shook his head, "kids these days". For the first time since Faith disappeared Angel was feeling a _little_ more like he was in control of the situation.

Another week passed slowly in LA, bringing the grand total to two since Faith's disappearance. The control and calmness Angel felt when fighting, was the only time his brain wasn't lost to memories and ghosts. The team were becoming increasingly worried about him, not that he could tell, since most of the time he was off trying to pick a fight with every single vampire in Los Angeles. Of course Angel had no way of knowing that two weeks was nothing compared to the five long months that had passed in Galway.

**1753**

They were sitting under a tree enjoying the late summer sunshine, her dark head was resting on his broad-chest and her eyes were closed. Faith didn't get much sleep at night these days. Stroking her head, he'd longed stopped asking her where she sometimes went at night. Or what thoughts kept her awake tossing and turning in their bed. Absently he rubbed his wrists and Faith traced the rope burns with a contemplative smile. She'd long since stopped worrying about being too rough with him, though sometimes he did wish there was a way they could switch control sometimes. The thing that bothered him most was the amount of time she spent conspiring with his father. The two had gone from hating each other to being thick as thieves. Liam didn't like it, he didn't like feeling like he was missing something. Naturally he blamed his father. The possessive streak in him wanted this girl all for himself, he knew she had secrets and he let her have them. Let her have her secret little world, in return for the nights and days that she was his and his alone.

The nights they drank and fucked themselves to exhaustion. And even when they didn't, Liam found that he just enjoyed being with her. Enjoyed hearing her tell him stories about her home and the place she came from. Painting imaginary futures in his head, one with planes and monsters, buildings which reached to the sky, space. More things than he could possibly conceive of. And then there was the sex, the unbelievable, insatiable woman he had found who didn't wait – would make him take her whenever the mood struck. No matter where they were. The things they did, the utterly depraved things she taught him that he hadn't even known possible. The pain which ignited him, the pain he inflicted on her which she blossomed against. Sometimes he left her worse off than the nights where she disappeared. Liam found a perverse pleasure in that fact.

The times when she forgot to be serious and worried and was just his.

"Let's run away_!" He exclaimed, one such night, they had broken into the blacksmith's workshop. Liam had told her he could find her a decent sword, but she seemed to have an affinity for them. So they would watch until somebody ordered a commission and then sneak in and take whichever one caught her eye. They shared a mutual affinity for overlooking morals. If they wanted it, they got it._

_They had unfortunately gotten bored and Faye's displeasure and impatience had spurred him into proudly declaring that he could make her a sword, how hard could it be? Faith had laughed as he fired up the smelter. It was a blur, but the evening culminated in them standing on the edge of town, watching the blacksmith's burn. Instead of being annoyed, Faith had simply checked out her reflection in the shining steel and told him that he was incorrigible. Nobody had been hurt, the blacksmith's shop was isolated and the man himself lived deeper in the city. But it had been one hell of a blaze, hotter than Hell itself he imagined. _

_They had arrived home covered in soot and black from the smoke. Then exhausted themselves whilst Liam pinned Faith against the wall with the sharp blade against her throat. She hadn't answered his childish plea and he had not mentioned it again. It didn't mean he hadn't thought of it though._

"Marry me_."_

_Faith's eyes snapped open, and then closed again to a squint as she fought against the bright sun that shone through the branches. The young woman looked confused, then serious, then she sat up and stared at him as if she was trying to discern whether he was teasing. Liam repeated the request._

_"__We can't get married." She said, simply._

_"__Why?"_

_"__I'm not really the wifely type." Faith was smiling, her fingers trailing absently up her bare legs. He'd never known a woman use an blade to shave her legs before, the sight of bare summer tanned legs had been strange at first but he was finding he much preferred her clean shaven and bare. A fact which wasn't exclusive to her legs. Faye thought he was just being silly, dismissing it as another absent fancy of his, he gripped her hand and looked at her seriously._

_"__I'm not kidding Faye. Marry me."_

_"__But-"_

_"__But what?"_

_"__We can't."_

_"__Why?" He wasn't hurt by her rejection, he knew her well enough to know that her answer would always initially be know. This scenerio had played through in his head plenty of times. Of course he'd thought about proposing, making an honest woman of her at least in one sense. He didn't know where she was from, or what her values were, but he knew she was like no other girl he had ever met. A primal part of him wanted to own her, undeniably._

_"__I don't want to be a wife."_

_"__You don't want to be with me?"_

_"__Of course I want to be with you" Faith sighed and turned away, "I don't want to settle down. I can't. I don't want kids. I don't want to wait at home for you to finish work every day, bored and-"_

_"__I don't want any of those things." Liam grabbed her arm and turned her to him, "marry me. We can runaway, leave Ireland, see the world. Raze the whole planet to the ground if that's what you want. Stand near the flames and watch it all burn."_

_"__With what money?" Her tone was indulgent, like a parent letting a child tell them about all the heroic and fantastic things they might do when they are bigger and know they likely never will._

_"__We'll steal it, from father, enough to get a ferry. See England, move to Europe, cross the Atlantic." It was only now she was starting to take him seriously, to realise this wasn't a passing fancy, he had really thought about this. A million thoughts were going through her head, but wouldn't that be perfect? To get Liam away from Ireland. She could break the future that way. They could run and run and never stop running. Away from Darla, away from danger, away from Angel with every year older that Liam got._

"Yes" she interrupted his tirade, but he didn't notice for a moment continuing on with his list of everything they would do.

"What?"

"Yes."

He kissed her then, and she kissed back so hard that it was more pain than pleasure, but Liam was getting more than used to that.

**Present**

Angel had let curiosity get the better of him, the memories weren't abating their struggle and so he succumbed to the inevitable and let himself read the past that he had forgotten. Allowed himself to delve into the mind of a man he had spent his entire existence trying not to become. So lost in the book was he, that when he heard a familiar voice, an entirely different ghost, he didn't react immediately.

But then he did and he all but knocked the chair over standing up to leave the office and check whether he truly was losing him mind. They were all suspecting it, not the least him.

"Buffy?"

"Hey" she offered gently, folding her arms and glancing around. "This is definitely an upgrade from the last place! Big enough to house Cordy's inflated ego at least." He ignored her attempt at amicable humour and asked exactly what he was thinking. It didn't change, no matter how much time passed he was never quite settled around her. Buffy was somebody he couldn't relax around, because if he did, well, bad things happened.

"What brings you here?"

"You seem to have stolen my best friend" she clucked as he raised an eyebrow, "a day has turned into two, then three, then four. Thought I'd come to rescue her" Angel was about to protest and she shook him off with a chuckle "I'm just kidding, there's a potential slayer in the area and I offered to come and round her up to take her back to Sunnydale. No rest for the wicked. Thought I'd pop and see Willow on the way, you haven't _actually_ stolen her have you? Because then I'd _have_ to fight you for her." He swallowed thickly, this was harder than it had to be. Hard enough that he hadn't thought about Faith in a good two minutes.

God he wanted to hold her.

"You think you could take me?" He had the perfect memory of her saying exactly the same thing to him what seemed like an age ago. Luckily she didn't fall into the potentially dangerous trap he'd left open. Conversing with her was a minefield of emotions. Luckily, to save any further awkwardness, Willow appeared behind him.

"Buffy!"

They hugged with an ease he envied, he envied anybody being able to be so comfortable around Buffy. A luxury he'd never be able to have.

"We may have lost Faith" Willow sounded contrite and Buffy's eyes widened, "did Giles not fill you in?"

"She ran away again?" Buffy asked, glancing to Angel, she clearly hadn't heard anything and he could see her adding up the task of rounding up the rouge slayer to her list.

"No, no." Will was quick to add. "We actually lost her. In the past."

"Okay. Huh?" the blonde looked genuinely confused now and she looked between the two of them questioningly.

"How, when? The past?"

"Yep. In seventeen-fifty-three actually."

"Wow. I repeat again, _huh_?"

"The year."

"Faith's in a different year? That's ...possibly a tad extreme. What did she do? Was it on purpose because I have to say, not Faith's biggest fan but there's kill and then there's overkill and that's definitely towards the latter end of the scale."

"No, no it was an accident. There was a watcher – who was Angel's Dad, and he did a spell, which crossed with something I did and now Faith's in..."

"Seventeen...whatever?" Buffy repeated slowly, letting the information sink in. Willow and Angel nodded. "And I thought I was the queen of problems. Can we get her back?"

"That's what we're working on."

"Will, you're not over-doing the magics are you?" Buffy was frowning now, Angel could almost see her adding yet another potential problem to an endless list. He wondered if she was making sure to take care of herself whilst trying to be everybody else's keeper. She had the world on her shoulders, and he was unable to help with the weight. Willow looked sheepish,

"It was just a protection spell, I promise, something to help keep everybody safe. They keep having apocalypse problems and-"

"Okay, okay Will. Calm down. I trust you. Nobody answered me as to whether we can get her back? Do you need any help? Is there anything I can do?" They both looked sheepish now and there was an expression on Angel's face she couldn't read. Buffy exhaled and sat down on the edge of a table. "That would be a no on all counts then." The slayer took a moment to collect herself before speaking again, "she'll be okay though, I mean Faith's pretty tough she'll be able to ride it out until you figure it out. And you will, you always do. I mean how much could have happened in the eighteenth century, she's probably just-" Buffy sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anything. She wasn't going to lie, things in Sunnydale were bad and the thought of losing somebody that could have actually helped, even if she wasn't entirely trusted, was a big blow. Willow and Angel shared a look and Buffy's expression turned to a worried one, "oh God, what happened in the seventeen-whatever it was?"

"Angelus happened" Angel wet his lips, the shame almost radiating off him.

"_Your_ dad. The year you were turned. She's in Ireland?" That was even more of a blow, Faith was with Angel before he was Angel, when he was human. Buffy couldn't pretend that she had fantasised and daydreamed about what that would be like. She swallowed thickly and tried not to let her feelings show. Angel was of her past, she needed to focus on what was happening now.

"I can't leave without getting her back" Willow sat next to Buffy, "this is partly my fault and she's-"

"No, I get it. You should stay. We need her, she needs you. We can cope for a bit longer. Is there anything I can do, I have a couple of hours before I need to head back?"

It didn't take long before the older slayer was well and truly clued in on everything that had happened. Leaving Willow to the books, she sought out Angel. They had all been slow to relay how badly he was taking this, and how worried they were about him. Buffy may not be great with the research but if there was one person she knew better than anybody, it was the vampire. Whether he liked to admit it or not.

"You okay?"

"Sure." He didn't look at her.

"Do you want to try again, but with the truth this time?" Her tone was light and she sat down next to him on the steps to the courtyard. All she could smell was jasmine, just like in the courtyard of the mansion he'd holed up in so long ago in Sunnydale. It was a smell she could never disassociate with him. Heaven knows how she'd tried, it had been one of her favourite smells once.

"I'm worried. I've failed her so many times. What if this is the last failing? To kill her before before-"

"I'm sure she'll hold her own" Buffy said, trying to be comforting "I mean even if she meets Angeus, it's the year you were sired. I doubt she'd lose to that young a vampire. If you'd run into Faith, you'd probably have been a pile of dust centuries ago."

"You think so?"

"Hey, I've fought Faith. You've fought Faith. What do you think?"

Angel smiled in spite of himself, even with everything else, Buffy still had this natural ability to make him feel better.

"You're probably right. I heard you're raising an army of Slayers" he changed the subject, before there were awkward questions about the mystery girl in the diary. There was every chance she was Faith, he couldn't think about how Buffy would feel about that. He couldn't even think how _he_ felt about that at the moment.

"_Potentials_, but Angel" she looked at the floor, "they're just kids"

"So were you..."

"And it took a long time for me to be able to handle it. You were there, you saw how hard I fought to avoid it. I need warriors _now_, not girls who are more interested in dating and clothes. They don't have time to grow and I don't have time to teach them. Plus they're not strong, at least my mistakes didn't cost me my life. Well...except that one time..." she looked away and her expression was so close to the Buffy he'd first met, he had to fight the urge touch her.

That wasn't allowed.

They weren't those people any longer.

"Angel" the tentative voice came from behind them, Angel stood up swiftly feeling for all the world like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"You're Conner I suppose? You've certainly got the patented Angel scowl, don't you think?" Buffy turned to see whether the teasing had the desired affect, but the vampire was gone. Buffy rolled her eyes humorously. "Some things really don't change, huh."

"I hate it when he does that" Connor agreed quietly "but I think that was more my fault than yours."


	11. Say what now?

**Chapter 11: Say what now?**

* * *

**1753**

**It was actually happening, somehow she'd been enlisted into the role of blushing bride. Nobody pretended they were overly enthusiastic, especially Liam's mother who, whilst planning everything down to the minutest of details, was more or less ignoring her soon to be daughter in law. Faith imagined she wasn't what the older woman had in mind by way of suitor for her son. Crass, secretive and disinterested in everything other than leading her son astray. And not only that but she had lost the ally she had in her hatred as Thomas' and Faith had formed a strange sort of partnership. The man she had expected to forbid this charade was doing absolutely nothing. She didn't like it. Not one bit. And even in supposedly happy event of watching Faith be fitted into her old wedding dress, she kept a cool scowl on her ageing features. **

**Faith stood on the stool, being pricked by pins, turned and pulled by an overly exuberant seamstress, counting the minutes until this was done. Soon they'd be married, which was not at all important, but after that? After that they'd be gone. Away from Angelus, away from Thomas' blackmail, away from everything. She wouldn't be able to be sent away, he wouldn't die. Mr and Mrs **_Cabhraigh. They were going to re-write history. Not only that but Liam's parents fortune would be gone with them, which was regrettable, but honestly the only thing Faith was even slightly concerned with was them being together. Together, alive and happy._

"Faye" a voice called out and the door was opened before Charlotte could prevent it. Thomas walked into the room, head as usual buried in a book, looked up just long enough to register the indignant look of his wife and only then took in the sight of the young woman, stood on the stool, being fitted into a familiar white dress. "Yes" he felt like he should say something "I suppose that will do. I'd hoped to discuss the matter of the church with you, but it can wait until you're not busy." He began to make his excuses but Faith shook her head desperately,

"I'm sure we can have a break for five minutes, five minutes of not being a pin cushion would be amazing." Charlotte and the seamstress exchanged irritated looks but Thomas, much more focused on his mission, dismissed them politely under the guide of bringing up some sweet tea.

"I was thinking of a raid tomorrow night, I have managed to source some weaponry, likely nothing like that which you're used to but-"

"Tommy, I've the only weapon you need" she jumped off the stool, "what do you really think's in there?"

"We'll find out tomorrow night."

"So we're not just burning it?" Faith sounded a little disappointed,

"I would like to explore a little, find out what would make vampires work together like this."

"In my experience fear," Faith shrugged "in the middle of a bunch of obedient vampires you find a bigger vampire. Meaner. Stronger. But still just a vampire" Faith's mind flitted back to the first '_bigger vampire_' she'd faced, Kakistos, she'd run from him all the way to Sunnydale and Buffy. Shaking off the memory she reminded herself she wasn't a scared little girl anymore. She was faster, stronger and not prepared to let anybody stick around to get Liam.

"I did remember you saying something similar a few nights ago and I've been doing some research into it. There are entire passages, split over a good few books, referencing a vampire called the Master."

"The Master? Seriously. What kind of egotistical asshole refers to himself as the Master?"

"I've written to a few of my colleagues and am contemplating holding off our attack until I have heard their replies, best not go in without being fully prepared." Thomas was all too used to ignoring Faith's colourful disruptions now.

"Prepared or not, we'll go in, I'll slay and-"

"That was quick" Thomas interrupted as his wife walked back in with a tray, teacups and teapot balanced perfectly. She'd always had excellent posture, it was one of her most admirable traits. "Thank you my dear" as he helped himself to a drink. "I'll leave you to your fitting."

"Did you sort everything out which you needed to?" Charlotte asked quizzically, her husband nodded briefly before excusing himself.

And once again Faith was left alone to her pre-matrimonial fate. Honestly it was a good job that her over-bearing mother in law had taken all the planning in hand, else the wedding would probably not have happened. Faith was less than interested and a little disappointed that running away to Vegas wasn't an option.

Wedding. Slaying. Liam.

Her priorities were split and she was rather proud of how well she was balancing them, it really helped to know that soon they would condense to just Liam.

Thomas was utterly convinced something huge was going, some big evil lurking in the darkness. Faith wasn't really so sure, after the initial attack at their home, nothing had transpired. It certainly didn't seem to be a village under attack, then again perhaps she was too used to Sunnydale and 'big evil' meaning 'end of the world'. This was somewhat anti-climactic. But she'd played nice, kept Thomas happy, chased a few vampires out from their meagre lairs, weeded out some who had been terrorising local towns. But still big, dark, evils had yet to show their ugly heads. In fact it was almost too quiet, it was beginning to be hard to believe that Angelus could ever have been sired in such a boring little hamlet.

Well, he wouldn't be born. She was making sure of that. If she had to she'd destroy every vampire in Ireland.

**Present Day**

The hours were creeping along excruciating minute by excruciating minute. Arriving back at the hotel after yet another wild goose chase of Wesley's, the last person he'd expected to see again was Buffy. He'd assumed, and perhaps hoped a little, that she'd be on her way back to Sunnydale by now. Having her this close, in his city, was a very unique brand of torture that he thought he might never be cured of.

"Is everything okay?" He asked a hint of worry in his voice, because if she was here, _again_, then the answer was almost definitely no.

"Actually, I found something that I think belongs to _you_." Buffy said simply inclining her head towards the door to his office, "left it in there." Curious but with his usual frown, Angel didn't ask further questions, instead he headed slowly to his office. He wasn't sure what he had expected, exactly, but what he found certainly wasn't it. Sitting in his chair, spinning absently back and to, was one of the last people he'd ever expected to see again.

"Kathy?" The girl's eyes snapped up, she frowned for a minute and then they widened like saucers as she flew from the chair and into his arms. Angel was frozen, numb, words were spilling out of her mouth but he wasn't really paying much attention. He wasn't listening. He wasn't thinking. It was too much. The memories. Faith. Everything. Now this. His little sister standing in front of him, removed from her world and his memory and injected into the here and now. Flesh and blood. She hugged him tightly, so tightly in fact that if he'd needed to breathe it might have become an issue. He stood awkwardly, face masked in confusion.

"From what I can tell she only speaks Irish"

"Gaelic" Angel corrected,

"which is why I thought I'd better bring her to you. Something seemed a little off what with everything with Faith..." The slayer finished without missing a beat. Willow came in a few minutes later, took in the scene of her best friend waiting in the office and the young girl, who could be no older than thirteen, hugging Angel like her life depended on it. "I'm guessing my feeling was right." She finished smugly, Willow who had been waiting with her smiled and tried not to say 'aw' out loud.

"So that is Angel's sister then?" She asked quietly, the when Angel turned to her she felt silly having forgot about vampires acute hearing. She looked sheepish as he nodded.

"This is Kathy."

"The trade for Faith." Willow's mouth opened as she realised the full connotations, "I should talk to Wesley, has anybody told him about this?"

"I didn't know for sure until just now" Buffy explained, by way of saying no.

"Thank you." Angel intoned, but his voice was cloaked with too many emotions for her to pinpoint one. "Now all we need is the spell." Angel placed a hand on top of the young girl's head gently, she pulled back and looked up at him and he attempted a smile. Guilt gnawing away at him. Those eyes. He remembered the horror in them as he'd drained the life out of her. Could he really send her back to that fate? Trade her for Faith knowing that he'd be sending her back to a brutal death at his own hands? She looked exactly as she had frozen in his memory. Angel swallowed thickly.

Willow and Buffy exchanged an unreadable look.

**1753**

Wiping the dust off her dress, Faith scanned the perimeter, ignoring the footsteps encroaching from her left. If there was one thing Thomas had done for her, it was increase her perception ten-fold. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of slayer she could have been had somebody like him been her first watcher. _No_, it wasn't him. It was her. She was different now. She _needed_ to be better. Stronger. She had somebody to protect.

"That one doesn't count." Even to her own ears her tone sounded petulant, she didn't like being proven wrong.

"So that's six vampires now. I could be wrong but I believe you said that if there was indeed something about to happen, their numbers would increase as more came in from afar..." he sounded smug. Faith hated smug. Brushing the wayward hair back from her damp, sweaty face she scowled.

"I said that there would be an increase. More than one over the space of a week. That was just a bit of bad luck."

"And that's one more than two nights ago. And three more than we were averaging two prior to that."

"Oh no, somebody call Buffy there's an apocalypse happening." Her droll sarcasm was lost on Thomas, who frowned but shook it off. Faith was tired. Like Liam he had developed an uncanny ability to ignore anything she said that he didn't understand. All the slayer wanted to do was go home to Liam, drag her wayward lover out from his bed and have some fun. Her life was definitely shifting heavily towards the work more than play ratio and she was decidedly not enjoying it. Something had to change. Something would change. Her and Liam would blow this joint, jump on a boat and be gone. Then there would be no more vampires, no more hunting, just them going all Bonny and Clyde on the world. Just a little longer. She could stick it a little longer.

"I have to say though, your craft is well honed. Inventive also, where did you conceal that stake?"

"A lady never tells." Faith quipped, "now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to do very unladylike things with your son."

"This isn't some kind of hobby Faye."

"I know, it never is." And nobody knew that better than her. She lived in a state of constant worry these days, wondering how close they were to Liam's life being snuffed out. Terrified she was leaving it too late. The wedding was only a few weeks away now, everything was falling into place. Even than seemed like a lifetime away. She wanted to leave _now_. But Liam was adamant they should be married first and so she did what she could to curb her desperation to run.

She was distracted as she wandered into the house and up the stairs, giving the shadows no regard, lost in her thoughts as she so often was these days. When he grabbed her, she didn't even flinch. Merely smiled against the wall where he pinned her from behind, her cheek hot against the cold stone. She felt his lips on her neck, before she felt his breath. Her body relaxed in spite of itself, something about him never failed to comfort her. As long as they were together, everything was okay. His fingers were edging up her skirt, fingers digging almost painfully into the bare flesh off her ass. She pushed back against him. More than used to his voyeuristic tendencies. They were in the corridor, anybody could see them, his parents, the servants. Faith groaned as his wandering fingers pressed between her legs.

"Are you mine again now?" He asked, Faith chuckled. She could hear it in his voice – the possession, slowly escalating with each passing day. Faith might pretend she didn't like it, or his new found impulses to take her wherever he saw fit. Liam was getting more and more frustrated, just as she was. His fingers disappeared for a moment and she almost protested their loss until she felt his cock press against her, sliding inside her easily, she had been ready for him the second he pinned her to the wall.

Not long now and they'd be gone. Together. No distractions. It was a promise she recited to him constantly. As much for her sanity as his reassurance. Faith moaned against the wall softly as he pounded into her, gripping her hips filmy her face pressed against the wallpaper.

"Can I not just be my own?" Faith asked but even to her own ears it didn't feel like a genuine question. There was no real room for speaking then, she dropped her own hand between her legs, the other bracing against the wall so that she could bend forward and he could get deeper. She played with her clit as he pounded into her, making her gasp and mewl every time he bottomed out against her cervix. Their moans grew until she came, loudly, clenching around him and triggering his own orgasm. He emptied himself into her, the thrusts becoming less frantic, deeper, until he collapsed against her back, chin resting on her head as he panted heavily, getting his breath back. Faith was beginning to feel like a rag doll being pulled in too many directions. She hated this. Hated not knowing how much time they had left. "Let's just leave" she sighed, "now. _Tonight_."

"But the wedding..."

"I hate weddings. They're boring and nobody really enjoys them. Everybody just wants the booze and the chance to dance and maybe get laid. Why do there need to be people? Can't we just do it ourselves. 'I do', 'I do too', and all that crap."

"Faye."

"I know, I know." No matter how she tried, she'd not found a way to sway him. Who'd have thought he'd end up being so proper. "Want to go and see how much rum we can con from the trading merchants?" Faith changed the subject, the last thing she wanted to do after a long night slaying was fight with Liam. She'd be quite content if she never had to fight with Liam ever again.

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Can I clean up first?"

"No, I like you filthy, walking around town with me dribbling down your legs. My own little whore." Liam bit his lip, desire already building up in his eyes again. Faith grinned. God how she loved this man.

**Present**

"Angel" the vampire looked up from the scene in front of him, it was hard not to find the sight of Wesley trying to translate what Kathy was saying amusing. Kathy looked up and Angel shook his head, people not calling him Liam was confusing her and though he'd already explained it a couple of times, it wasn't really sinking in. Angel didn't really have the heart to keep explaining it, so he let Wesley attempt to quiz her as she ran rings around him. She was a quick little thing and had cottoned on immediately to what Wesley was doing. Quickly losing him with colloquiums and abbreviations. Every now and again she'd throw some Celtish in to really confuse him. Or some French. Angel was trying hard not to laugh.

It was the most fun he'd had in days.

Between watching the floor show he'd also been reading more through his father's diary, and was beginning to think he might just stop altogether. Thankfully there was little about his and Faith's relationship though it had become obvious there was no doubt as to the mysterious woman's identity. He was reading Faith's present, centuries after it was transpiring. It was strange, he was still remembering bits and pieces, feelings, emotions, events, but in no particular order and they were all disorientated and confused. It was beginning to frustrate him.

Angel slammed the book closed frustratedly, Wesley and Kathy were too busy to look up but Lorne did with a frown. Standing up he walked over the the vampire,

"Come with me." So rarely did the demon give orders or sound stern, Angel frowned but obeyed and followed Lorne up the stairs and to his room. When he closed the door he fixed him with a sympathetic look "Have a seat."

"I'm not one of your clients Lorne."

"No Angel-Cakes you're my friend. These headaches aren't good for you, and neither are all your lock up memories. You've been in a dream-state for weeks. Let me try and help."

"Help how? Singing isn't going to work, this isn't-"

"Singing isn't the only trick I have up my sleeves Big Fella'" he spoke firlmy, and Angel shrugged.

"Fine. It won't don any good though."

Lorne stepped up in front of Angel, and placed two fingers on each of his temples,

"This might sting a bit."

Angel sat there for what seemed like an age, with nothing happening, he was about to pull away when suddenly it felt like his head was being stuck in a vice. He tried to move but couldn't, he felt his face contort into the familiar vampire face as his demon pushed it's way out in reaction to the pain. He tried to speak and couldn't. And then all of a sudden, it was gone. Headache included. Pushing Lorne away roughly he growled,

"What the Hell did you do?"

Lorne looked at him for a long moment, almost stupefied, he opened his mouth to ask if it worked but Angel's face was suddenly awash with emotion. The vampire fell to his knees and the empathic demon slowly walked out of the room. He had a the mother of all headaches himself now, but he knew he'd done a good thing. Even if Angel probably wouldn't be thanking him for a good while.

"Are you okay?" Fred stopped him mid-way down the corridor "did I hear Angel yelling?"

"He'll be fine" Lorne glanced back "I just gave him back his memories."

"You-"

"Fancy joining me for a Sea-Breeze or six?"

"Do you think I should-"

"I think we should give him some time to come to terms with his thoughts." And with a hand firmly in the small of her back, Lorne guided Fred back downstairs in order to let Angel have some privacy.

It was some time before Angel made his way back downstairs, it had taken a while to compose himself but as with most things he felt better for knowing. He remembered everything now, he remembered Faith, Faye, remembered loving her, remembered those months before he turned with such painful accuracy that he almost wished he couldn't. But the headache had gone completely, as had the fuzziness, and he felt for the first time like he could focus on the here and now. Firstly though he wanted to know exactly what had stripped him of the memories. Confronting Lorne downstairs was his first point of call.

"You're looking better" Fred observed on seeing him, she was right, he was, he was feeling better too. But he needed answers, it might be a lead on how to get Faith back!

"I feel better."

"Glad to be of service" Lorne smiled behind his cocktail glass, taking a long sip, "I think we've done a straight swap for that headache though."

"I didn't know Empath demons could lift magical amnesia" Wesley pondered, entering the foyer, it's all they had been talking about.

"We can't." Lorne said simply, enjoying the confused looks between the rest of the group. It wasn't often he got to feel like the one with all the answers.

"So how did you-"

"Boy you guys really can't let a man bask in his triumphant smugness for even a moment will you. Fine, fine, I'll spill. My first clue was the headaches, I've seen amnesia before, stripped memories, the amount of traffic I had showing up in Caritas begging for help" his hand gesture emphasised that it was a lot "but I've never known memories slip back. Headaches. Dreams. Disorientation. That's all different. It means the memories are still there, just buried, which is what made me think that with a bit of this and that I'd be able to bring them from your subconscious. I didn't want to say anything straight away, I wasn't sure it could be done, but I've been talking to a few of my friends and decided it was worth a go." For a moment he saw them thinking and took the calm before the questions rolled in. Everybody had something to ask but the one he focused on was Angel's.

"So who suppressed my memories."

"I'm afraid _you_ did my lost little lamb."


	12. A Pocketful of Sunshine

**Chapter 12: A Pocket of Sunshine**

* * *

Angel looked thoughtfully at the girl who once was his sister. She hadn't hesitated when she'd seen him, there had been no doubt, no fear. Had he really not changed in over two centuries? A hair cut, less of a tan, a few lifetimes and nothing to show for it. To her he was still Liam, her beloved brother, the same man she'd seen as little as a few days before. For him she was a painful memory, something to seek repentance for, part of a life he wished he couldn't remember.

Which led him to his other train of thoughts, facts that he was still absorbing. The truth that nobody had interfered with his memory, that Angelus had repressed the memories, the painful, gnawing humanity which lingered. Decades of killing, burying his mind in blood and pain had pushed them right down. When Angel had been born, in the glittering light of a fresh soul, it was his own transgressions he remembered. He spent so long brooding over what he'd done, so long trying to hold back his urges, that the already distant human memories solidified as little more than forgotten fossils. Angelus had remembered her, it's why he'd killed the Beast instead of letting it kill her. If he'd embraced his evil-alter-ego more then this might have all be avoided, he might have been prepared. He could have prepared Faith.

Instead, he had taken the cowards way out. And the fact that Faith was lost with no way back, no warning and no fore-knowledge was entirely on him.

However it was hard to really brood, not when he could remember her fresh faced and smiling, or sweat-slicked and moaning. Not when he could remember how she felt against him, nor the passion with which they had clung. Liam had loved her, with everything he was, remembering that love was bitter-sweet. He wondered how much of his initial attraction to Buffy had been subconsciously because she reminded him of the first slayer he'd loved.

No, Buffy had been so different to Faith. His love for Buffy had been born of purity, the desire to protect. His love of Faith had been born of destruction. Their love had been passionate, dangerous, all consuming. The love of a man and a woman. Not of a Hero and a demon trying desperately to be worthy of her love.

In retrospect he understood Faye a lot more, her fear, all the times she distanced herself. His heart ached with the desire to explain to her. But he knew that he couldn't, the memories might be his but the life and the relationship belonged to them. A man long dead and a woman he might never see again. The haunting feeling that they were wasting their time occurred to him, his memories with his father's books, he couldn't help the sickening notion that she died fighting the Master. Trying to save his life.

Angel brought himself out of his brooding as Buffy laughed in the distance. Trying to work out Faith in retrospect was pointless, he knew who she was, and it meant a lot that even with the pitfalls of their past, she had still been trying. Trying to fight. Trying to be good. Trying to repent. She would never be the perfect slayer, she would never make the right choices easily, she had to fight for her humanity, constantly, just like he did. She stumbled, like he did. They were the same. _Imperfect_. It was why they had fit so perfectly.

For the first time since she'd arrived Angel allowed himself to really look at Buffy. She'd changed a lot, her eyes weren't as bright as they used to be, in fact he noticed lots of subtle changes. Her entire aura was much stronger, she held herself with a confidence that he'd never seen in anybody before. A power emanated from her, and the weight of the world on her shoulders had aged her. He had loved her so, so much. Once. But now, although his heart still yearned for her, it yearned for the Buffy he'd known. Not this slayer who stood in front of him, all business. Her lust for life had gone and she looked tired, resigned. Angel sighed, after a long fight between the girl and the slayer, the slayer had won.

Then there was Faith who never fought being a slayer, who accepted it with open arms and used it to sculpt who she was. A killer. But then wasn't he? Was that because he had known her first? Had his entire personality sculpted on the long forgotten obsession, desire, love? Passionate, dangerous, impulsive. Evil. No, Faith was a lot of things but he never had and never would believe that she was evil. Or blame her for the choices he'd made as Angelus.

"I should be going" she looked to the window, Angel smirked,

"You've said that about three times now."

"I know" Buffy pursed her lips a little, "I hate leaving whilst Faith is still lost...but Sunnydale-"

"Needs you" Angel finished, "what do _you_ need?"

"A holiday" she smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. The conversation was clearly making her a little uncomfortable. "I'm going home without a potential _and_ a slayer. I've lost Willow too. Forget the Hellmouth I'm starting to think LA is a black hole."

"We'll get her back Buffy." Though the fact that he and Buffy averted their gaze from each other, echoed loudly to the fact that neither truly believed it. There was nothing they could do to change the past though, and even though every instinct of Buffy's was still to save the vampire from undue pain, time had taught her to choose her battles. This wasn't one she could win.

"As soon as we have Faith back, we'll send her and Willow straight back to Sunnydale. No more incidents." At least there was hope now. They would get Faith back. It was just a matter of working out the final details.

"We'll, one thing I doubt will ever change about Faith, and that's to try not to guess what she'll do next. I'll see you soon Will. Be careful and keep in touch?"

**1753**

* * *

When Liam woke up Faye was gone, unsurprised he stretched out in the bed lazily. Faye was restless, full of energy and rarely sat still for long. It wasn't until he sat up that he noticed the draft that his attention was focused, he was sure he hadn't slept with the balcony doors open? Standing up walked towards it, wondering if Faye was out there. The balcony was empty, casting a look upwards to the miserable, overcast sky he shivered a little and went back inside, the barest glimmer of sun was peaking through. Shutting the doors behind him. It looked like rain. Dressing quickly he headed downstairs to find his future wife.

"G'mornin Father" he smiled as he walked into the sun room. He took a seat and sip from a cup of water. His friendly-albeit-forced amicability was wasted on the other man who didn't look up from the crisp newspaper. He couldn't remember a time when his fathers face hadn't been buried in something he was reading.

"Good morning sweetheart" his mother spoke warmly, wafting into the room which immediately filled with the scent of her perfume. Liam had always been a mummy's boy. Even through her disapproval of his chosen bride, she was working tirelessly to give him the wedding she wanted him to have. Faye was at least doing something right in letting her. Her perfume was a smell Liam was comforted by in an instant, a smell he would never quite forget. As Angelus he would kill women simply for wearing it and making him remember, as Angel he wouldn't quite remember why the smell made him feel sick but it would. Every time.

"Have you seen Faye?"

"Not this morning, sorry dear."

"She's in my office" his father spoke, not looking up, before picking up a piece of toasted bread.

Leaving the table he stopped at the doorway and watched the young woman. She wasn't reading the book that was in front of her, instead she was staring off through the window at the dark clouds rolling in. She got claustrophobic when it rained, she hated being trapped inside. It was just one of the subtle little things he'd learnt about her. '_I'll take you somewhere it never rains, where it's sunny all the time and you're never locked in a dismal little house_.' The promise echoed through his memory and made him smile.

"You can't fool me lass, I've been pretending to read my whole life. 'Course it's usually far more convincing when you actually look at the book." Her head snapped around to look at him, indignant at first, but then the look dissolved into a tired, enduring smile. He closed the distance between them, dropping down next to her on the couch and stroked her hair tenderly. He'd ask what was on her mind, but he knew she wouldn't share. She never did.

"I _was_ looking at the pictures, but there weren't many..." Faye teased, before confessing "I don't actually speak Irish."

"Ah" he sat down "I could read it to you?" But the brunette shook her head, and closed the book.

"God no. Your dad wanted me to read it, I have a feeling it's boring as sin. Distract me instead. Make me forget." Dipping his head and claiming her lips he grinned against her,

"Gladly," he growled.

* * *

**Present**

After he'd finished explaining to Kathy how they were going to try and get her home, then convincing her to eat, and finding her some clothes that didn't make her look like a homeless waif, Angel went back to research. It wasn't until she came searching for him that he stopped, and when she did he looked up. He hadn't expected to see her again, not after Gunn had introduced her to the Playstation. But when queried she'd said something that made his insides knot.

"I feel safer with you. You're like my own guardian Angel." The simple statement brought back too much, everything came back in a tsunami into his brain.

_He was standing in the kitchen, looking at the man that once was his father. He didn't seem half as threatening now. He could just lunge and kill. It would be so easy. He took a step forward and Thomas shrank back, gaze falling on the body of his daughter – his slayer slumped against the wall, with heavy eyes he looked at the monster that had killed his son, the monster sneered,_

_"She thought I returned to her – an angel."_

"Is everything okay?", Wesley asked tentatively for once he was glad of the interruption as he needed to share his sudden epiphany.

"This, everything, we couldn't have stopped it even if we'd known. This has to happen, everything, every road leads to this." he said, almost as if he couldn't quite believe it,

"Of course" Wesley agreed, hadn't he already explained that fully? Angel sat down,

"I know" he sighed "I think I've just fully comprehended what that meant." It meant that this wasn't a mistake, it meant that he'd always met Faye. That it had always happened. This wasn't a rescue mission. His past had always been her future, from the second he'd first met her. More than that, from the second he'd been born their fates, however far stretched, were entwined. He'd turned her into the person that would go back and help shape his entire life. A never ending cycle. Him and Faith. Locked together. Ill-fated lovers. There was a dangerous question floating around in his head now, one he'd dared not think of fully, with all the emotions still running through his head.

Could they finally have it?

After all these centuries.

The happy ending they never got?

* * *

**1753**

Faith looked at her dress which was hanging in her room. She looked at her flowers which were all but covering every surface of the house, she looked at the setting sun and could hardly believe that tomorrow she would be marrying Liam. Stepping out on the balcony she felt the winter chill creeping through her bones. Tomorrow she would be escorted to the chapel in her dress with several woman from Liam's family that she didn't know. She would marry him and then be his wife. Faith fell on the bed smiling, she had never been so happy in her life. Not because of the stupid wedding, but because by tomorrow night they would be gone. Together. They'd change history.

She'd _almost_ done it.

They were almost free.

A knock on the door made her sit up, she'd thought Liam had gone out. Walking to the door she opened it and almost swore when she saw her soon-to-be-father-in-law standing there.

"I think we need to talk."

"We do?"

"I think it's about we talk about your return. Now we know that the church and tunnels beneath are empty, it's unfair to keep you here indefinitely." It was a subject he hadn't wanted to mention, but as helpful as she had been, he'd never truly intended on letting her marry his son. She was changeable and not his choice of wife. The charade had gone on long enough. He had decided to let them have their ceremony, let Liam have a healthy dose of heartbreak, then use that pain to forge a stronger more level headed man. One who would do his family proud.

"You can't do this" the disgust on her face was more than evident "you think I'll honestly let you do this to me?"

"You want to stay" it wasn't a question but she nodded none-the-less, "and marry my son?"

"I will stay."

"And what if I told you the price for my trade, that my twelve daughter is currently in your time. Lost and alone. Unable to come back unless you agree?"

Faith balked, memories of Liam talking about his sister, portraits of the young girl who had been sent away to school, Faith had assumed it was because of the dangers here.

"She has the potential to become a slayer. I've always known, she's still very young, too young to have been useful here. I found a spell, forbidden, but I had to try something. Everybody was going to die. I needed a proper slayer. Not a child. I took a chance, in order to secure her future. But if you stay, she will be alone and lost forever. Out of time. Out of place."

"My friends will have found her. She'll be safe. Looked after." Her tone was desperate now, trying to convince herself, he could tell he'd hit the right note and made the right decision in keeping this information until now. The slayer was passionate and fiery, but there was a good heart beneath it all, a heart which she'd already proven could love. He'd counted on that. Faith's mind was racing. Angel would surely stumble across his own sister. A young girl from the seventeen-hundreds would stick out like a sore thumb in LA. And Angel Investigations wasn't one to not investigate the weird and wonderful. "How could you just send her away?"

"I told my family that she's safe, that she'd gone to England for tutelage and for safety. To procure her best match in a husband. I have a woman who writes letters and signs them from her, to keep my wife from worrying. I do hope you're right. She's not strong" he steeped his hands together, "I've been hoping for a long time she's not chosen. She is not right for the calling. Weak. Fair-willed."

"None of us are strong until we're chosen, she's a child." Faith spat, disgusted.

"Perhaps" he looked at her knowingly, "still she is my charge and I would like to get her back. Whether that is possible, rests on your shoulders. You helped me out greatly, so I will not force your hand."

"What about me, Liam? What do they matter? I've done nothing but help you. Chased down every lead and suspect you had, worked tirelessly. You planned this all along? I'm done and you want to send me away. Just like that. Just before my wedding day." Faith spoke to the empty doorway, Thomas had already left.

Liam was sitting in a pub enjoying his last night as a single man. It wasn't the same though, he'd much rather be in a nice warm bed with Faye. Or even here as long as she was, getting thrown out for causing too much trouble. Drinking the bar dry. Spending his fathers money. He couldn't wait until tomorrow night, on the run, finally free of this stagnated town.

There was a blonde sitting in the corner not drinking anything, he locked her gaze and she wandered over casually. As if she hadn't been watching him all night.

"Hello" he offered, merrily on his way to being drunk, his best friend practically devouring the newcomer with his eyes.

"Hello" a seductive grin crept across her lips, Liam raised an eyebrow.

"Can we buy you a drink?" It was more for the benefit of his partner in crime than anything, Liam planned to make his exit soon, and it seemed like bad form to leave his friend in the lurch so early on in the night. They weren't good friends, he came around when Liam was willing to spend his father's money. Since Faye arrived in town he'd had little time for anybody else.

"No, thank you." She purred.

"You haven't had anything to drink all night." Liam pointed out.

"You've been watching me?" now her attention was piqued, looking coquettish.

"There's not many people in tonight" he slapped a hand onto the other man's shoulder "one less now I think, I'm done." Darla's smile faltered a little, she could easily drag him from the tavern and get what she wanted by force, stop him leaving. Or follow him home and do the deed there. But she didn't, she wanted to break the slayer and the only way she could do that was if he submitted. Willingly.

How lovely for the slayer to be killed by her newly sired husband. Oh the plan was going to be perfect. She'd find him tomorrow and sire him and then watch as he penetrated her on their wedding night, watch as those shiny virgin fangs slid into her skin like butter. Her mouth was watering. She was hungry, she looked down at Angel and knew she needed to get away. The plan was so perfectly concocted, so beautifully poetic that she'd hate to ruin it by being impatient.

"Maybe tomorrow then? I'll be here" she looked around and then to him suggestively, "if you want me – maybe to buy the new groom a celebratory drink?"

"Are ye coming to the ceremony?" he brightened up and was animated for the first time since she'd spoken to him, Darla almost felt sick, such disgusting happiness, she couldn't wait to break him of _that_.

"I don't think so" she replied distantly, "I don't much like churches."

**Present Day**

**Thirty-one days. Thirty-one long days since he'd lost a slayer. Twenty days since Willow had succumb to the inevitable and returned home. Ten days since the slayer was last mentioned by anybody but him. Wesley was still researching, but progress was slowing and it was starting to become a very real possibility that they were never going to get anywhere. Kathy was ingratiating herself into life in the twenty-first century perfectly, in fact she was happier than he ever remembered seeing her. She didn't ask questions about him. Though given that she was raised by a watcher, he didn't think it was a huge leap to assume she'd figured out that her older brother was now a vampire. And had been for a long time. **

**Much longer and he was going to have to think about getting her into school.**

**That seemed too final though, like he was giving up on finding Faith altogether.**

**It was frustrating to say the least.**

**Things had returned mostly to normal and he felt worse about that than anything. The only thing which made him able to bear it was that he knew how happy Faith was. Lost in his memories, she wasn't so lost. But she wasn't where she should be. Where she was needed. The whole thing was turning into a rather epic failure, and things were just getting worse and worse in Sunnydale. Angel was almost resigned to the fact that they wouldn't get Faith back, that his instincts originally had been right and she was dead.**

**"****Angel" Kathy found him as he was stepping off the bottom step into the lobby, he arched an eyebrow questioningly "there's a phone-call for you." He nodded, her English was coming on wonderfully and she was almost too fluent for his liking now. She sounded like she belonged, already, and the familiar sound of her accent was a welcome change. Even if It was becoming difficult to not slip back into his own. As he walked past he ruffled her hair, and enjoyed the sound of her irritation all the way to the office.**

**It was comfortable.**

**Like he finally had a family. A real one. Without all the drama that came with Conner and the heartache that came with Buffy. Just his sister. Safe and alive. He had to stop himself from hoping that maybe if he could get Faith back somehow, keep Kathy, then they could live the life they'd planned so long ago. Free now. No chains. **

**"****Angel" he answered the phone casually, ignoring the usual greeting as obviously whoever was on the line had asked for him. There were enough other people loitering around for Kathy to hand the phone to, rarely did anybody hand off business to him. As Cordelia reminded him regularly, he just wasn't much of a people person. **

**"****Hi!"**

**"****Willow."**

**"****I think I've found something."**

**Angel was silent for a long time, his emotions already mixed. He didn't need to ask what she was talking about. He hadn't heard from her since she left, but he knew from Wesley and Fred that she'd been keeping in touch via emails and texting. Angel didn't text. Or email if he could absolutely help it. So he was detached from the research, which up until now had been at a brick wall. Willow wasn't deterred by his silence; "we were looking into finding a potential and I stumbled across something in a book. Or someone I guess. A demon called Alentaih. There's a hefty price for summoning but she specialises in retrieving lost things. And people. There was a big scandal a few centuries ago as she was stealing people to then find them and charging people a fortune for her troubles, according to the books at least. And nobody has summoned her, in what I can tell, a long while. But it's worth a shot, right?"**

**"****What's the price?"**

**"****Gold. Solid gold. A lot of it. More than I could find in the entire house's worth of jewellery. And currently I'm living with a whole lot of women so that's saying something. A bit old school but at least it's not a human sacrifice like with some of the others..."**

**Gold. A little obscure and he wasn't entirely sure where they'd get their hands on solid gold in this day and age. It wasn't like he could go and pillage a pirate ship for their gold doubloons. But there was hope, actual, tangible hope.**

**"****Just gold?"**

**"****What're you thinking?"**

**"****Find out if she'll barter. I think I have something else that might work."**

**"****Will do. But Angel – I think this will work."**

**"****When can you get here?"**

**"****I can send her to you from here. ****_If_****we have the payment."**

**"****Leave it with me." Angel hung up the phone and pondered for a moment. Wondering whether he could really do what he was about to do. Heading up to his rooms he tossed the idea back and forth for a long time. It didn't take long to find, he'd known where it was. He'd carried it with him for centuries, though for the longest time he'd not known where it came from or why he owned it. Other than it was obviously worth a fortune. Pulling it out from the old, fragile velvet bag it was in he turned it over in his hands. The gold was duller now, the diamond within the setting still shone with all the splendour it had when he'd first gotten it. He remembered acquiring it now at least. Not buying, he should have known he hadn't come by it by honest means.**

**It had belonged to a woman in Galway, an old family heirloom, Faye had hated it. She thought it was garish and over-the-top. They'd both noted that with something like that though, their round-the-world escapade would be paid for. Not that it mattered, Angel remembered all to well the promise he'd hinged their getaway upon. His father had always intoned that once he 'grew up' and settled down that he would sign the business over to him. The entire business. It was to be a wedding present. He hadn't told Faith at the time, he'd wanted it to be a surprise. On their wedding day his father would sign over the family business he had spent his whole life building.**

**The day after Liam would sell it and ride away, enjoying the broken horror on his father's face.**

**The necklace, well that had come after he had been turned. As he'd watched Darla ripped the throat out of the woman it belonged to, he'd pulled it off her corpse. Darla had expected him to give it to her, she'd sulked for days when he'd pocketed it away and it never resurfaced. He'd never been quite sure why he'd felt the morbid need to keep it and not sell it. Why just looking at the bag made his insides tense and his mouth go dry. Now he did. **

**It had to be more than coincidence that it would be what he used to get her back. To break his own heart. To create Angelus.**

* * *

**1753**

It was the dead of night and Faith was still brooding on Thomas' words. He couldn't send her back. He wasn't powerful enough. She'd quizzed him about the spell enough times, he didn't know what he'd done. Or he'd been a much better liar than she'd credited him for. And if Willow wasn't powerful enough to reverse it, assuming of course that they were even trying, then Thomas wouldn't stand a chance. There was still hope. Still the smallest glimmer of hope.

He couldn't do it.

He couldn't make her.

Not now.

And it wouldn't matter because tomorrow they'd be gone.

Her and Liam.

Running.

Happy.

Perfect.

For the first time in her entire life Faith knew where home was, where she belonged. It was with him.

If one little girl had to stay lost in time away from home to make that happen, the so be it.

* * *

**Present**

Willow was alone in her room, a place she had deliberately avoided for the longest time. There were too many memories here. Memories she didn't want. Memories that hurt. But the house was full and there was literally nowhere else to think. The constant buzzing noise was too much of a distraction and she needed to focus. This was it, it was the only thing she had come across that might work, in a months worth of searching. Not that she'd told Angel that. This was an attempt, as far as everybody else knew she was staying positive and if this didn't work, then she'd find something else.

There was nothing else.

If this didn't work...Faith was lost.

Forever.

The witch had a whole host of ingredients in front of her, neatly catalogued and all within easy reach, all were on ready show. Even the chickens feet which _still_ made her stomach churn, disgusting things. Giles always called her an amateur when she shuddered at touching them. Tara would have understood, but Tara was gone and she couldn't think about her right now. She needed to clear her head. Focus on Faith.

She took a few meditative breaths.

"Alentaih I summon thee, bring forth your skills to me" she threw the chicken foot into the pot of mineral water she had, and then some Kraken scales in after them, the pot bubbled forebodingly, _well_, as forebodingly as a pot could bubble. She was trying to focus too much to be able to come up with a better adjective in her head, so she stuck with it. It was very hard staying focused when you were looking for constant signs as to whether this would work or not. "I need you help" some powder got thrown in and the concoction hissed, she flinched a little, "I need your skills" something gooey that she didn't want to let herself think about, "please bless me with your aid and presence." Okay so it wasn't by rote, she wasn't even entirely sure it was even half of the correct phrasing, it was debated so much. Willow was really hoping that intention and magic worked more than the words. Another deep breath and she threw some eagle talons into the mixture. "Ego vellem habere quod perierat, et redde me pretiosum."

The pot hissed and a small cloud of orange smoke erupted in a soft pop. Peering in, Willow noted that the pot was bone dry. And clean. A spell which washed up after itself was perfectly alright in her book. Willow was about to say something when something moved in her peripheral vision, turning her head she saw that she was no longer alone in the room. A girl, who could be no more than eight, was looking back at her curiously.

Willow stared silently until the girl arched an eyebrow;

"You wanted something?"

"I...yes...I do. Rather I know somebody he does. Your payment is with him. Is that okay? I couldn't quite tell if you would forego gold...but he has something else. Unless you take master-card these days?" Willow realised she was rambling but she was expecting at least an adult, looking into the eerily black eyes of a child was unnerving.

"I know what he has. And where he is."

"You do."

"I know where everything is."

"Of course", how else would this work? Willow felt a little sheepish. "So...why did you come here?"

"You tried so hard. Most people these days find me on the internet. It's nice to be summoned the old fashioned way."

"The yellow—wait, people hire a child to find things?"

The being shrugged,

"I get things done."

"Right...so...what happens now?"

"I'll visit your friend, make sure my payment is sufficient. Then I'll see whether I can bring back whatever it is you seek."

"It's a who."

"No matter. Though they'll have to wish to return. I retrieve the lost. I do not kidnap people."

"She'll want to come back." Willow chuckled, why on Earth would Faith want to stay trapped in the past. "Thank you. Oh, we have something to return too...can you do that?"

"I cannot see why not." And the witch was alone again in the room.

"That was easy." She felt a little like it was too easy, she had the sinking feeling that things were about to go wrong. Perhaps, to be safe, she should look into a dream spell, just to check that Faith wasn't going to be difficult. The last thing she wanted was to waste Angel's valuables on a pointless endeavour.

**1753**

Faith's eyes were closed and sleep was finally almost upon her. The room was pitch black now, it was cold, there was a chill closing in on the end of the year that she slayer had never known. Nothing but open fires to warm a stone house that seemed nothing but damp all of the time. It would be nice to get away from this dismal little island and back to America where the weather was better.

"Faith" the voice was familiar and the slayer blinked. They weren't anywhere, she could see the blurred outline of her bedroom but it was shifting, constantly, bleeding against another room. She assumed it was wherever Willow was. She supposed she had fallen asleep, her body felt weightless, sort of numb. Like she couldn't quite move.

"Am I dreaming?"

"Sort of. Magical dreaming."

"Nice of you to get in touch." Though there wasn't the bitterness in her tone that months of being lost in an entirely different year warranted. "It's been a long time."

"How long?"

"It's December. The first actually." Her wedding day.

"Oh wow. It's been a month here!" Willow made a point of shaking off the distraction and focusing "Faith we're getting you home. I've figured it out. It's taken me a long while but I can do it now."

Faith was quiet for a long time. Suddenly praying that this was a nightmare, not real, something she could ignore. Maybe her subconscious playing tricks on her after her conversation with Thomas, that was possible, right? She swallowed but didn't speak. "I know it's been ages but it hasn't been easy and-"

"When?" Faith interrupted, suddenly not at all interested in excuses. She felt sick.

"I'm not sure. Angel's just working out some kinks and then a girl will come and bring you home. But you have to come willingly. I did say I can't see why you wouldn't. It looks dismal there."

"Yeah" Faith agreed hollowly. Willingly. So there was still a chance to run. To stop this. To ignore it.

To let everybody down. "I need tomorrow." Faith said firmly. Buying herself some time. "Tomorrow night. Give me until tomorrow night." Willow frowned, somewhat confused, but after a moment she shrugged and then nodded.

"Sure, okay, I'll let Angel know."


	13. The Vow

**Chapter 13: The Vow**

* * *

**1753**

**She felt the exact moment the spell released her, she stirred within her bed and wondered whether she had actually be to sleep at all. Not that it mattered, she wouldn't be getting anymore sleep that night. Her things were already packed for their escape tomorrow. Would Willow be able to find her if she ran? It didn't matter. There was no way Faith would go willingly.**

**Except that Thomas wanted his little girl back.**

**There was probably a little girl in LA desperate to come home to her family.**

**No. Faith shook it off. They could adapt. She wasn't losing Liam. Not for anything. Even if it was selfish. She'd spent her life being selfish. Why break the habit of a lifetime? **

**Suddenly she needed to see him. To feel him. To make this real again. Liam was the only thing that could stop her mind racing at times like this. Crawling out of her bed, wrapping the blankets around her shoulders to keep the December chill at bay she padded out her room and along the silent corridor to the spare room where Liam was spending the night. A part of her worried that he wouldn't be back yet and would still be stumbling from pub to pub, celebrating his last night of freedom.**

**A sick feeling bubbled within her stomach. Worry. She didn't like him being out at night whilst she wasn't there. A fact which he chafed against, he didn't like being told what to do. By anybody. Any more than she did. So most of the time she let him go. And only sometimes lingered around the the shadows keep an eye. **

**The door didn't creak when she opened it and she didn't know why she expected it to. Liam was on the bed, snoring obliviously and she relaxed instantly. He was safe. He was here. Closing the door behind her she crossed the room and crawled up next to him on the bed. Smiling she placed her lips gently against his, kissing and biting at his lips to rouse him. His eyes flickered open eventually, though they took a few moments to let his brain catch up.**

**"****Faye" he stated sleepily, somewhat confused, still drunk, she could taste the alcohol on his lips.**

**"****Expecting somebody else?" She was grinning wolfishly, doing her best to mask the inner desperation she felt to be next to him.**

**"****It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding" he stated groggily.**

**"****We make our own luck." She replied and continued making damn sure that she had no time to think about anything but his skin on hers. Tomorrow they'd be gone and all of this, everything, would just be a distant memory. **

**The whole day was a blur, she was ushered from Liam's room by the servants who promptly spent what seemed like an eternity fixing her dress, hair, makeup. Faith had never been fussed over so much and the only reason she was enduring it so well now was because it would be the only time in her life she ever would.**

**That said, there was a part of her that was genuinely excited. As much as she'd lamented never getting married, this ****_was_****exciting. She was a bride. She was going to marry Liam. Today. In front of everybody. She'd never admit how happy that made her, not to another living soul, but secretly, her stomach was filled with butterflies. She hid it effectively by acting coy and disinterested and was pleased that everybody seemed fooled.**

**The walk from the house to the church was slow and cold, Faith, though far more used to wearing heavy dresses now than she'd ever imagined being, kept stumbling over the frozen cobbles. Skirts and petticoats smeared with dirty water from puddles and mud because she couldn't hold it all up enough. She'd imagined a horse and carriage or something, though she didn't know why when the church was only ten minutes away. This country had more churches than taverns.**

**"****You need to keep your skirts up, they're getting all muddy." Charlotte chastised, gathering some at the back and pushing them into Faith's grip. She was obviously not doing very well and the white lace was showing up everything. It's what she got for wearing white really.**

**The walk was quiet, various members of Liam's extended family followed behind as bridesmaids, happily chattering. But Charlotte – who had planted herself as a sort of maid of honour – and Faith had the lead in sort of stoic silence. They'd never been much for small-talk and the slayer imagined that Liam's mother didn't like her much.**

**Not that she ever voiced it, or was anything but polite and accommodating to her soon-to-be-daughter in law.**

**"****Didn't you want Kathy to be a bridesmaid?" She asked, unsure where the urge came from. Well no, the urge was because the girl had been playing on her mind since last night. But she could kick herself for actually asking. Charlotte regarded her with surprise for a moment, then a flash of sadness, then a shrug. "Do you not wonder where she is?"**

**"****I've learnt, as will you, that it's best not to ask questions."**

**Faith frowned. Her daughter vanished and she simply did not ask, took it in her stride. When she so closely doted upon Liam no matter his shortcomings. Or how he let her down. Then the penny dropped and Faith shook her head.**

**"****She's not yours is she?"**

**"****No. She's not. But she believes it and it's better for the family if everybody believes that to be true."**

**"****Better for Thomas you mean" Faith answered scathingly.**

**"****One day Faye, you'll learn that your husbands interests and yours are one in the same thing."**

**"****And if I don't?"**

**"****Then you'll have a very miserable, long life."**

**The life that stretched in front of her wasn't one of obedience. It never was. But would Liam expect it of her? Did a man expect a different type of behaviour once their claim was staked? It would take more strength than he had to over-power her, but it was a struggle to keep reminding herself that this was a male-dominated world. She might be stronger. But the only power she would have here was her strength. Sooner or later he would expect her to be obedient and they would have a very big problem.**

**She was giving up everything for him. Every hope at redemption. Leaving everybody in the lurch. Sunnydale to burn. To save a man who would never know, never understand. **

**Faith's heart ached inside her chest.**

**She couldn't, no, ****_wouldn't_****live without him.**

**What else could she do?**

**Leaving now? Impossible. **

**For better or worse.**

**Present**

Everything had fallen into place, the demon was paid, it was just a waiting game now. A few hours and he'd see Faith again. Angel tried to picture the slayer in his head, how she had been when she left, but the only images he could conjure up of her now were memories from the past. Crystal clear memories, tactile, vivid almost tactile memories which made him ache with more than desire. The Faith he remembered, bad language, bad-ass attitude, large hazel eyes was fading and in her place the uncouth, insatiable force that she had whisked into his life with. Her laugh. Her smell. Her touch. Things which he'd had no knowledge of for centuries and now could recall as if he'd just fallen out of her bed this morning.

There was only one problem left and that was Kathy.

She didn't want to go back, and had spent the last few hours sobbing and begging him to let her stay. Refusing to go. Trying to convince a child of the magnitude of the situation, of the consequences should she not go back, would have been easier if Angel didn't know the fate he was sending her to. Technically she didn't have to go back, they weren't using the same spell, he could keep her. Nobody else knew what was waiting or her. Well, aside from maybe Wesley who had given him a strange look, but said nothing. Angel was trying to remain calm about the whole thing, but it was getting under his skin.

Kathy couldn't stay here any more than Faith could stay in the past.

But dragging a child away from modern comforts, luxuries, electricity, to send her back to a cold home where her entire life would be marry, give birth, and hopefully live long enough to see your children grow – was difficult. She didn't know that she didn't even have that dismal life to look forward to. Angel did.

So he'd left her to Fred and Cordelia and locked himself away unable to look into those terrified, doleful eyes anymore.

**1753**

Faith had never lacked confidence, never, not once. But walking down the long aisle of the church, with what seemed to be every single person from the entire city, was daunting. The light shining in through the windows wasn't beautiful, or romantic. It was eerie and oppressive. The smell of polished wood and damp stone was claustrophobic. And yet her senses wouldn't quit being in overdrive. Every little noise. Every little movement, triggered her instant need to react and even though she quelled it, she felt like every single fibre of her being was vibrating.

Taking a deep breath, she focused her attention on Liam. Standing proudly at the front of the church. Hair slicked back. Suit perfect and pressed. And for a split second it wasn't Liam she saw staring back at her. It was Angel. Watching her. Those eyes. Judging her. Faith swallowed thickly, shook it off and as she got closer the differences became enough to fight the bile in her throat. The light had made his skin look pale, but close up and she could see the tan. The freckles. The light dusting of pink on his cheeks which came from being dressed up – feeling like he didn't belong. She felt she same. Liam's boyish grin as she stepped up before the alter. Faith grabbed his hand. She needed to feel his warmth.

"You alright?" He whispered to her as the priest was addressing the congregation, Faith nodded quickly to reassure him but she wasn't. She wasn't at all. This wasn't her. This wasn't him. Why were they doing this? Why were they still here? All she wanted to do was run. Run from the danger. Run from the guilt that was eating away at her insides.

You don't belong here.

You can't just leave them.

She closed her eyes for a second and willed the voices in her head to shut the Hell up.

_Ladies and Gentlemen,we are gathered here, on this lovely winters morning to celebrate the giving of Faye Bennet to Liam O'Leannin._ He was staring at her warmly, vibrant eyes glittering with excitement, with life, with love. Faith wanted to be sick. When the priest addressed her she almost missed it, she couldn't turn away from Liam and she stared at him with a burning intensity that she hoped would convey what she needed. _'Look at me. Look at me or I'll run. Look at me or I'll drown.'_

"_Repeat after me; By the power that Christ brought from heaven, mayst thou love me. As the sun follows it's course, mayst thou follow me. As the light to the eye, as the bread to the hungry, as joy to the heart, may they presence be with me. Oh one that I love, 'til death comes to part us asunder."_

Faith wished it was only death that was trying to pull them apart. If that was their biggest fear then she might actually be able to breathe. She repeated the words hollowly, focusing on Liam's eyes. The wedding, the everything, it was wrong. Even the words. Because if she left, he couldn't follow her. And if he died, then she would have to destroy him. Or let him destroy her. Which of them would prevail? She had been so convinced that she could save him. But standing here in this monument to a higher power, she wondered if she had a say. What if she was wrong? Liam had a future. A purpose. Some might say divinely chosen. Prophecies. She was the one without one. Was she staying with him for no other purpose than to die?

It was the first time she'd accepted that she might fail.

Hearing the words from Liam's mouth almost made her cry. Not because of the intent or the patronising, mainstream sentiments, but because for the first time she realised that she couldn't stay.

Not when there was a way out.

She'd worked too hard to change herself.

The future might not need Angelus, but it needed Angel. More than she needed Liam.

This wasn't about them.

It was about so much more.

Faith swayed a little where she stood, she was struggling to breathe. It felt like the walls were closing in on her and all she wanted to do was cling onto the man standing in front of her and never let go. Never have to pry herself away from his touch. Never have to live in a world where he didn't exist. It was only when she felt his warm fingers against her cheek that she realised that she was crying. Her cheeks were wet, and Liam was smirking at her. Some part of her memory insisted they'd made some childish bet as to whether or not she'd cry at the wedding – he'd insisted all women cried at weddings, she'd countered that she wasn't the crying type. He was a bastard. And she had no idea how she was going to be strong enough to leave.

When he slid the ring on her finger, a small silver thing, he'd told her the origins of it one night not to long ago. A claddagh ring. Some traditional Irish wedding thing. The small bit of metal felt warm against her skin and she wondered how cold she must be. And wondered how Liam felt so warm against her skin.

_"May the road rise to meet you, May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, The rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand. May God be with you and bless you; May you see your children's children. May you be poor in misfortune, Rich in blessings, May you know nothing but happiness From this day forward. May the road rise to meet you May the wind be always at your back May the warm rays of sun fall upon your home And may the hand of a friend always be near. May green be the grass you walk on, May blue be the skies above you, May pure be the joys that surround you, May true be the hearts that love you." _

The church broke into applause but all Faith registered was Liam pulling her to him, his lips on hers. In spite of everything else, they were married, it was done. Faith belonged to Liam now. More importantly, deep down, in her heart of hearts, she knew she always would.

As they stood there, together, watching everybody celebrate on their behalf, Faith shook her head.

"Lets get out of here."

"What? Now? We can't just runaway _now_" he whispered back to her, eyebrows knitted in confusion,

"Please." Faith didn't think she'd ever heard her own voice sound so desperate before, Liam must have caught it because instead of questioning her, he nodded, tightened his grip on her hand and then pulled her off at a run down the aisle and out of the church.

**Present**

* * *

"Kathy?" she looked up eyes red and swollen, but at least the sobbing had stopped. In it's place was a sulky resolution. "It's time." Angel was as broken at letting her go as she was about going. He'd gotten used to having her here, having a small piece of home. With all the memories surfacing he was mourning more than ever for the life he once had. Unlike Kathy though, there was some hope buried in him, Faith would be home soon and then – _maybe_ – there was a chance for them.

The future was the future though. In that moment he wanted to hold her. Not Faith. Faye. More than anything else he'd ever wanted in his life. It had been too long. He craved her with a desperation he'd never thought possible. All of the anger he'd festered unintentionally over the years of her abandoning him, all of the frustration was wavering under sheer relief and excitement.

**Alentaih was waiting, patiently for a child though he surmised she want one, she hadn't spoken much and instead seemed to be watching Kathy carefully. The demon stretched out a slender, pale hand towards the girl. Kathy almost took it, but before she could Angel grabbed her and pulled her against him. Hugging her tightly. He really had missed his litter sister. But this was selfish. This was his apology. His apology for what he would do. The only way he could express it.**

**"****Take care." She ordered, gently. He nodded, and with that Kathy gripped Alentaih's hand.**

**"****You come willingly?"**

**"****I do."**

**And the two glittered away into thin air.**

**1753**

They hadn't gotten too far, they'd run until Liam's legs were burning and then stopped to catch their breath. Stopping by the river just outside the city, they were hidden by trees. They weren't impossible to find but Faith assumed that few would come looking for them. The wedding breakfast was probably already cooked and she imagined everybody was indulging with or without the happy couple. Free food, free alcohol and they were celebrating the wedding, even if the couple of the hour were MIA.

Faith knew she should be there, should be enjoying this day, revelling in the only wedding she would ever had. But she couldn't. Spending her one and only day with her husband, Faith wished she didn't love how that sounded in her head, there was no way she was going to spend it looking prim and proper, watching her manners and indulging everybody else's curiosity.

Her one and only day as Mrs _Cabhraigh._

_There was that suffocating feeling again, like she was drowning. _

"What's wrong?"

Faith couldn't breath. Clawing at the corset of her dress, Liam was quick to catch on and rushed over to help her out. Faith didn't want his gentle help though and helped him. The stitches ripping against the stress. When it was open she gasped for breath, Liam's hands firmly on her shoulders. "You're scaring me."

"I don't like—all the attention" it was half true at least. He nodded gently, before kissing the top of her head.

"Doesn't matter, we'll be off on our adventures at mornin' light and it'll just be me and you."

Faith couldn't speak. There was nothing to say. He was right. They could still run. Stick to the plan. Cling to happiness. His clothes were the next victim of her hands, kissing him with all the needy desperation of a drowning person gasping for breath.

The newly-weds spent their wedding day alone, making love on the slowly thawing grass.

By the time dusk fell, Faith was silently crying. Nestled in a cocoon of the shreds of her now grass-stained and muddy wedding dress. It was Liam's shirt she grabbed to put on, looking down at her sleeping husband. It was all she could do to keep her sobs silent as she fastened the buttons. The shirt came down to the middle of her thigh, hardly lady-like and proper but she didn't care in those moments.

This was the last time she'd watch the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. The last time she'd hear his gentle snoring. All of her love and peace would forever stay in this moment. Locked in time. Forgotten.

She didn't kiss him goodbye. She was afraid he'd wake up and then she'd lose the last shred of strength she had to walk away. Faith couldn't dwell on the confusion he'd feel when he woke up. Couldn't worry about how many questions he'd have. How much he'd hate her. It couldn't be more than she hated herself right then. One thing she knew though was that there could be no doubt, no wondering in his mind, and so with every molecule of her body screaming it's protest she slid the silver ring off her finger and dropped it into one of his shoes. He couldn't spend his next few centuries blaming anybody but her.

Her feet felt leaden as she walked back to the house.

Opening the door quietly, she was surprised to find the house empty. She'd thought Thomas would at least be waiting for her. Walking to his study she didn't knock. Didn't worry about her state of undress. She didn't worry about anything. Thomas was resting against his desk, there was a girl she'd never met sitting in the chair opposite where she herself had sat so many times before.

Kathy then.

"Faye." His tone was abrupt. Faith shook her head and was about to tell him to go stick his deal when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Spinning around immediately tensed to fight, she came face to face with a young girl. Looking down, somewhat disorientated by the matching height, she felt her stomach lurch when she saw the girls feet floating off the floor.

"Do you come willingly?"

**"****I suppose. But lets get this over with before I change my mind."**


	14. Until the Cows Come Home

**Chapter 14: Until the Cows Come Home**

* * *

**Standing in the foyer of the hotel Faith squinted against the bright halogen lights, as things came into focus she saw the familiar faces gathered around, staring at her. Fred, Wesley, Connor, Cordelia, for a moment she balked, noting the other woman's swollen stomach. When had that happened? Shaking it off she continued to look around before she finally came eye to eye with her person she was most dreading looking at. Her face was wet with tears, she was still wearing Liam's wedding shirt, could still smell him all around her. This felt like a bad dream. It was a bad dream, one she knew she wasn't going to wake up from. She was looking directly at Liam's fate. Her heart broke, she had dreaded seeing Angel, seeing all the parts of Liam which had been taken. But all she felt was ashamed. She hadn't said goodbye. Hadn't warned him. Hadn't done a thing except run.**

**Gone were the freckles.**

**Gone was the tan.**

**He'd been dead for centuries.**

**Faith crumpled, falling to her knees sobbing. Repeating apologies into her hands, apologies which were too late and too far removed from the situation.**

**"****How about we give them a minute" Lorne suggested, breaking the lengthening silence with his usual melodious tenor. It wasn't really a question and though the throng were clearly eager to ask Faith numerous amounts of questions it was more than obvious the slayer wasn't in a position to answer any of them. Cordelia was the last to leave, assessing the look on Angel's face with intense scrutiny. Eventually she too headed off into other parts of the hotel though.**

**Angel looked at her, she looked exactly the same as when he last saw her. He remembered the cold walk back to his house, shirtless, confused, scared, knowing something had happened but not knowing what. He'd thought it was just her being her until he'd felt the sharp pain when putting his shoe on. When her ring, stone cold, had dropped into the palm of his open hand he'd known. Not known what, but known instinctively that he was never going to see her again. And yet here she was, grass stained knees, muddy limbs, dishevelled hair and his shirt. Standing in front of him, what, mere hours since she'd left him. Broken and sobbing on the floor. **

**He didn't know what to say, he knew what he should say, but he didn't know if he could. He'd been planning on what to say to her should she return for months. To tell her how much he'd loved her, how good the memories were, how he understood. But seeing her here now he understood with a certainty he didn't understand that she wouldn't hear it. Wouldn't understand it. **

**He dropped to his knees in front of her and pulled her soaked, tear stained hands from her face, forcing her to look at him. The sobbing slowed, wet, remorseful eyes holding his steadily. He'd had a month to remember this loss, to come to terms with it, and that itself was stretched over the course of centuries. For her the heartbreak was fresh. **

**She lunged at him, lips on his with a desperation he hadn't felt in years. This wasn't passion, this was her clinging to sanity, clinging to the last vestiges of a man she loved more than life itself. He knew he should push her off, but he couldn't, he had too many feelings of his own. This was too confusing, too much. He'd worried about getting too close, about risking losing his soul, but as amazing as it was to have her back it was also the most painful thing he'd ever encountered. It was the epitome of bitter-sweet. There was little danger of him losing himself completely in her.**

**As she wrapped herself around him Angel picked her up easily, Faith buried her head in his shoulder as he walked, running her hands over his now icy skin. He was as strong as she was now. They got to his room and he backed against the door to close it, Faith wriggled down and painfully slammed her hands into both of his shoulders, slamming him hard against the solid wood. Angel frowned, pulling her hands away, she swatted his hands away and slammed him back down. Her eyes were hard now, determined. Something deep in Angel understood on a more fundamental level than even she did. She was testing the differences, she wanted to see, wanted to prove to herself exactly how far gone Liam was. This wasn't happily-ever-after sex, this was closure. This was goodbye. Angel grabbed her wrists in retaliation and spun them, pressing her front into the door. There was a part of him, a part that remembered how frustrating it was to be so much weaker than her, that desperately wanted to even the score now. Sliding his hand up the back of her legs, under the hem of the shirt, an action he remembered doing so many times. What he didn't expect was the sharp elbow into his ribs. He stumbled backwards, Faith lunged at him, knocking him backwards onto the floor. Hand around his throat she kissed him. It was sheer ferocity. He kissed back for a minute before using the strength of his legs to push her off and over his head. She hit the sideboard hard, but was up on her feet at the same time he was. **

**The fighting went on until they were both too exhausted to fight anymore, bruised and bleeding the fight for dominance had suddenly become so much more. The last blow and Angel could no longer hold back his demon face, Faith came face to face with what had killed her husband. The monster who had hollowed out his body and made it his home. Only then did she grab him, roughly pulling him to her, lips meshing against lips, his fangs drew blood from her lips as they fell backwards onto the bed. **

**Then they fucked until they were too exhausted to move.**

**Then they just lay, next to next in Angel's bed. Staring at the ceiling numbly.**

**"****You're cold" she observed in a neutral tone, Angel almost apologised but she spoke before he could, "I expected it but..." and she trailed off.**

**The silence resumed for a while.**

**"****I'm sorry" she was the first to speak again, Angel was trying not to overwhelm her with all the speeches he'd planned in his head. He was trying to let her take what she needed, "I should've said goodbye. I was scared?"**

**"****Of me?"**

**"****Of me. It took everything I had to leave. I wasn't sure I was going to manage it."**

**"****I understand" he said, then decided that lying wasn't what she needed and added a very honest "****_now_****."**

**"****And then?" She was asking not for his feelings, but because in her head she was picturing what Liam was going through. Trying to piece together the ending that she had run from. **

**"****Then? Then I hated you. I hated me. I hated my father. I hated everything and everybody because nobody was you and everywhere reminded me of you."**

**He heard Faith swallow, and stayed quiet waiting for her to answer. It took a while.**

**"****How were you turned?"**

**"****I found a vampire, I broke into my father's study, read up on the things you were reading. That book you had, remember, the one I offered to read with you?" She looked at him with such heartbreaking recollection, he continued without letting her speak. "I hoped I'd find you somehow. Anyway I learnt about them, the scant amount that was written, and I went drinking. Stayed out at night. Waited for death. I was numb. Lost. It was a few weeks after you left that I found her, Father had practically kicked me out, I sold all of his silver. I found her in bar-"**

**"****-Her?-"**

**"****Darla. I followed her, asked her to turn me, and she did."**

**"****Wait...Darla, the tiny blonde?" Faith's eyes widened, she'd fought her, all the time that was the one who destroyed Liam, she swallowed trying not to betray how sick she suddenly felt "well you certainly have a type."**

**"****I guess you were the exception."**

**"****Maybe I was just the first" she reasoned. Angel could tell she wasn't in the mood to argue and he certainly wasn't. So instead he moved to the next logical topic, the foremost question he had needed to ask her. Was he going to lose her again?**

**"****What will you do now?"**

**"****Go to Sunnydale I guess, see if they still need me. Help save the world. Try and atone." He could hear quiver in her voice, smell the salty tears sliding down her cheeks, he dared not look at her. She didn't need to see him cry too. Very few people had ever seen him cry. **

**"****And then?" He was definitely scared of this answer.**

**"****Honestly? I don't know. I need to sort my head out. This is just, I feel like I'm dying. Like I can't breathe."**

**"****I know." He really, really did.**

**"****Right now, killing things, drinking a lot, killing some more things. I can't process beyond that."**

**"****I understand." More silence. This was becoming a pattern, Angel had never paid quite so much attention to his ceiling before. "Will you ever come back?" It was an unfair question. A selfish one. But a part of him felt like she was leaving him again, leaving him again without consulting him, without letting him have any say in the matter. No matter how childish that sounded. **

**"****I will" she answered eventually, "I'm not sure what for, or when, but I will come back. As long as the feds don't catch me first." **

**There was no more talking, eventually the sun rose, he could smell it through the heavy curtains. He stayed silent as she got up, watched as she grabbed his shirt again and slowly began putting it on. Bruises were already blossoming along the pale skin of her back, strangely instead of making him feel bad though it made him feel oddly proud. **

**"****Goodbye" she said softly, he repeated the word wondering whether he would ever see her again. And then she was gone and once again he was left to adapt to life without her. Hopefully this time he would do better than the last.**


	15. What Once Was

**Epilogue**

**"Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asked, eyes drawn to her pale beauty of the woman lingering just to the side of the street. He'd given up on finding Faye, he'd found that being so drunk he could barely function was helping stave off the numb oblivion of his life. The slurring was more than obvious.**

**"Perhaps" she smiled, she'd been watching him for days and noted the change, her plan for his wedding night hadn't come to fruition at all. And she hadn't seen the slayer since, even though she'd visited their balcony every night. She'd watch Liam stumble in and pass out drunkenly, the few nights he'd made it past the courtyard. Something had definitely happened, she just wasn't sure exactly what. She's been most put out when Liam hadn't come to see her on his wedding day and had watched him sleeping after the Slayer left. **

**"So, I'd ask myself" he started out conversationally, "what's a lady of your station doing alone in an alley with the reputation that this one has?"**

**"Maybe she's lonely" was the coy reply, spoken softly,**

**"In that case, I'd offer myself as escort to protect you from harm and to while away the dull hours." He was smirking and she almost laughed, he was charmingly quick, she had to give him that. **

**"You're very gracious."**

**"Hmm. It's often been said."'****_Quick and exceptionally pretty_****' thought Darla, it wasn't the first time she'd noted how attractive the man was. It was a shame really that she only wanted him to hurt the slayer, he would have made a remarkable toy under different circumstances.**

**"Are you certain you're up to the challenge?"**

**"Milady, you'll find that with the exception of an honest day's work, there's no challenge I'm not prepared to face. Oh... But you're a pretty thing. Where are you from?" she laughed coyly at his flirting, staying alert, half expecting the slayer to appear any moment, a well planned trap.**

**"Around. Everywhere."**

**"I never been anywhere myself. Always wanted to see the world, but-" Angel replied wistfully, stopping before he thought to much about Faye. They had planned to see the world. Now the world made him feel sick. Shaking off the thoughts he forced his mind to what was in front of him, a woman that was nothing like his wife. Fair, voluptuous, demure, it was about time he focused on more ladylike women. **

**"I could show you." She said suddenly, her plan was suddenly evolving. All that pain she could see in his eyes, all that frustration. She wondered how far she could exploit it, how she could shape the heartbreak to make a companion to enjoy the hunt with. She had been alone for so long...**

**"Could you, then?" he raised an eyebrow, sure of himself now. They were alone. It was dark.**

**"Things you've never seen, never even heard of." She'd found the right note, though the heartbreak was the twinkle of mischief, excitement, curiosity.**

**"Sounds exciting," **

**"It is" she smiled, "and frightening" when he held her eyes Darla almost faltered, he knew what she was. He had been looking for this. A ****_human_****had surprised her.**

**"I'm not afraid" he paused "show me" he grinned and then looked into her eyes, "show me ****_your world_****" Faye refused him access, wouldn't let him be a part of it, now he was going to force his way in. Perhaps he'd find her again. Perhaps she'd hunt him. Perhaps he'd hunt her. Liam and Darla were standing very close now.**

**"Close your eyes" she spoke barely above a whisper, he played along, she smelt no fear on him. Not even as she bent her head and sunk her teeth effortlessly through the skin and muscle of his neck. Hot, sweet blood poured into her mouth and she relished in it, drinking until she felt his pulse start to slow. Liam let out a gasp the white hot agony broke through his drunken stupor like a knife, he couldn't swallow, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. The world span and he fell to his knees. He was about to pass out, or throw up, or both but then there was a hand behind his head pulling him. Hot metal flowed into his mouth, no, not metal he realised slowly. Blood. She was pressing too firmly to allow him to pull away so he swallowed, and swallowed as his mouth filled.**

**And then everything went black.**


End file.
